Accidentally In Love
by cosmickym925
Summary: Sam only had to do one thing. Get over his cheating ex-fiancee. He wasnt supposed to fall for the crying girl on the elevator. [AU]
1. The One With The Mystery Girl

**Dont own glee**

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_**"Life is like an elevator: on your way up, sometimes, you have to stop and let some people off." **_

**March**

Sam watched the last five years of his life flash before his eyes. She was talking as she paced, her arms swinging wildly around her. He couldn't hear her, not really anyway. It was almost like he was underwater and she was above him, talking in circles. He could see the tears falling from her gentle blue eyes and the way she was fiddling with her engagement ring. His life continued to run through his mind. Their first date was at her favorite restaurant. Their first kiss on the roof of her apartment. The first time he ever said those three fated words after they'd danced at his best friend's wedding. When he proposed on their fourth anniversary. And it paused on now, the week before his wedding and all he could remember was her mentioning bumping into her ex. Sam had heard about him before and how tumultuous their relationship had been. High highs and rock bottom lows. He never thought he'd have to compete with an old flame but he knew now, he should have been prepared. It was almost as if there were warning signs, all throughout their relationship. He always felt more invested or a bit more in love than she was with him. When they were planning their wedding, he picked out the date and when they were looking to move in together, it was like he was making all the plans. She was always lax with her decisions while Sam was determined and certain. He slowly realized that that was the problem. Darcy wasn't certain. She was never going to be certain at least not with him.

"Sam..." she stopped pacing now and met his eyes. "Are you listening?"

He was listening. Barely. But he was mostly thinking about his friends and family and how he was going to explain all of this to them. They were supposed to be across town at one of their final rehearsals yet here they were, her crying and him, numb.

"You slept with him?" he asked, his brows furrowed and his lips slightly parted.

His question made her break down even more, her long auburn locks veiling her face. He always loved her hair. It was something about it that always made him run his fingers through it. Whenever she laughed, it moved or if she turned her head too fast, it would wave across her pale face like thistles of brown straw. And he'd brush it away lovingly, kiss her gently and sing some cheesy song he'd been humming all day. But now, he wouldn't get to do that because she was too busy breaking his heart to realize that strands of hair were sticking to her gloss covered lips.

"I'm so _so_ sorry," she wept loudly. "I don't know what came over me. I thought it was the wine or something but... I wasn't that drunk. I should have gone back to my parent's house like I wanted to but... I'm sorry."

Her parents. They were another story. How would they react? Would they be happy their daughter wasn't marrying a guy like him? His family wasn't nearly as wealthy as Darcy's but he was doing well for himself and he knew he'd be able to afford a life for them. A life that now was never to be.

"Are you leaving me?" he asked next. He just wanted it over with. One rip and it's done like a band-aid.

"You were always too good for me. I don't deserve you. He and I have history and... I have no excuse. You must hate me. I hate me for hurting you. You were too good."

Sam gulped, still numb to the pain that he was sure was going to smack him in the face as soon as she left the room. Did he hate her? He didn't know. He still loved her that much he was positive about. He felt like he should be standing, cursing, shouting, maybe even threatening to go kick her ex's ass. But instead it was as if he couldn't move.

"I can tell our families. I know your mom was so excited about the wedding."

His mom. That thought made him wince. She was so happy when Sam had told her about the engagement and had practically planned the wedding out before they even left the house that day.

"Sam... You deserve to be happy with someone who loves you and only you. I wish it could have been me. I wish I still wasn't in love with Harvey..."_ Harvey_. Finally there was a name put to the image in Sam's head. The name conjured images of professors who only wore tweed coats with the dark patches on the elbows. "...But you know what they say about things happening for a reason. We weren't meant to be."

He licked his lips, trying to ask his next question. "Was it something I did?" his voice was bland and monotone. Would he ever be cheery again? He was pretty sure he was dying or at least close to it.

"No?" she shook her head quickly. "Of course not. It was nothing you did. It was just little things that didn't match up for us. Little things that did match up for Harvey."

He could have sworn for the past five years that they were totally in sync and fit perfectly together like ying and yang. Obviously he was wrong.

"Sam, I'm so-"

He stood abruptly, not sure he could hear her apologize anymore and walked out of the apartment. He pressed the elevator button and waited patiently until the doors parted before getting on. He wasn't sure where he was going so he stood in the center of the elevator, not bothering to push a floor. He could feel the tear in his heart and he knew that once this fully hit him, and he realized that this was his new reality, he was going to break. Sam looked up as a small hand parted the elevator doors just as they were about to shut. He scooted to the side, letting the sobbing girl on and glanced at her as she slammed her hand onto the button for the ground floor. He felt a bit concerned at the sounds she was making. She sounded like she was dying and for a minute, Sam thought that might be the case. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, dangling it in front of her face. She paused her sobbing and reached for it, staring at him and then the handkerchief.

"Thank you," she said with a cracked voice and dabbed at her eyes. She held open the handkerchief and read the intricate threading that spelled out his name. "Sam Evans."

Sam nodded and faced the closed doors of the elevator as it went down.

"I'm such an idiot," the woman said, breaking into his thoughts. He eyed her and for some odd reason, wanted to pat her back or at least assure her that she wasn't an idiot, even though he didn't know her. She was beautiful and Sam was sure that anyone that pretty, couldn't be an idiot. Then again brains and beauty didn't always go hand in hand. She straightened out, and wiped her eyes angrily.

"I should have known, ya know. He was too good-looking. Too nice. Too rich. Treated me too well. Drove a nice car. God, he was even good with kids."

"Do you have kids?" Sam asked. He'd found his voice and it was only brought forth by sheer curiosity about this woman who wouldn't stop crying.

"No," she said with an eye roll. "But it's a quality you'd like in a guy, ya know. I should have known he'd cheat. I should have seen it."

Sam had found a kindred spirit and he took a step closer to her. "My fiancée cheated on me last night with her ex boyfriend. And our wedding is next week. Well, _was_."

He'd meant to say it as a way to cheer her up, maybe even let her know that things could be worse but it only made him realize just how messed up everything had become.

The woman stopped crying and faced Sam. "Well jeez, maybe you need this more than I do," she said, gesturing towards the handkerchief.

He chuckled lightly and it made him feel odd. He shouldn't be laughing. Not when his life was flipped upside down. Not when he'd just walked away from the only woman he'd ever loved.

"Did you do something wrong?" she asked, still looking at him.

Sam shrugged and shook his head. "I don't think so. I thought I did everything right."

"Well you seem like a nice guy, but what do I know? I was dating a guy who ended up cheating on me...You live in this building?" she questioned.

"Yeah. You?"

She nodded. "I just moved in yesterday. Oddly enough because it was closer to my boyfriend's job. What a waste."

"It's a good building," Sam offered, his tone gentle.

She chuckled dryly and rolled her eyes. "It's the heartbreak building." She brushed her bangs out of her eyes and blinked a few times as the elevator dinged and the doors opened.

"Thanks Sam," she said, holding up her hand to wave. He held up his own hand in response and realized only after the doors shut that she still had his handkerchief and he hadn't gotten her name.

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**A/N: I know, I know, I shouldnt be writing a new story. I have like 4 others that need finishing but for some odd reason, this gem was a total plot bunny that wouldnt leave me the hell alone until I wrote it. I'm almost mad at myself for still writing glee fanfiction lol. But here it is. It's not gonna be terribly angsty but it will be pretty damn cute and funny. So I hope you liked it. I have no idea when I'll update next but let me know if I should just hide this story in my vault of things that should never be seen again. Or let me know if you love it. **


	2. The One With The Trash Can Fire

**Dont own it ... why do we have to post these? Like if show runners were reading fanfiction OBVIOUSLY they'd find better storylines (throws shade)**

**Thank you soooooo much for the reviews and follows and favorites ALREADY! **

**btw, is anyone wondering why the cover art of this fic is a bowl of Cap'n Crunch? I wanna explain but it'll be pretty obvious in Chapter five. **

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Sam was positive that this wasn't healthy. It wasn't the least bit normal or sane but god, it was therapeutic. It was on what would have been his wedding night, and he was busy lighting the clothes Darcy had left, on fire. He chuckled, realizing he'd skipped some major stages in the grief process and went straight to rage, before pouring more lighter fluid onto the expensive camisoles he'd bought her for their anniversary. If he didnt get to see her in them, no one was going to. Especially not _Harvey_. He hated that name. Before, he was indifferent toward it but now, he hated it with a passion. Who even named their child Harvey? Hippies maybe? Maybe he was old. Maybe that's what broke them up, the age difference. Now that Sam thought about it, maybe that's what broke he and Darcy up, he wasn't old enough. He was older than her but only by a few months. Nine to be exactly. They always joked about that, saying that when he was born, her parents were getting busy in their California king sized bed. Sam wanted those moments out of his head. He didnt want to see a flower and think about the time they drove to the rose bowl just to see the floats. He wanted to eat a turkey hot dog without being reminded of the New Years Eve were they stayed in and just made hot dogs on the roof, ending the year with making love on the roof top and nearly getting frostbite. Sam squeezed the rest of the bottle into the trash bin and even hurled the bottle into the flames. His face warmed at the feel of the fire and he inhaled the smokey air, wishing he still had a cigarette. He'd given up smoking for her when they first met after her complaints of 'not wanting to kiss someone who smelled like an ashtray. Now Sam just wanted to smoke an entire pack just to spite her. But what would she care? She was probably busy sleeping with Harvey.

Sam felt his phone vibrate in his pocket but ignored it. It was one out of two people. His mother or his brother and right now he didnt want to speak to either of them, especially when he knew what they'd say. Something encouraging, telling him not to give up hope that Darcy would come around. They'd been doing it all week. They were just as bad as his coworkers Mike and Puck. While one of them was trying to get him drunk and get him a rebound chick, the other was trying to feed him. It was exhausting. Sam knew Darcy wasn't coming back.

He'd come to terms with it.

_Somewhat._

She wasn't the type to back out on her word. Except for their wedding of course which she definitely did back out of. If she said she was done, then she was done. No if, ands, or buts about it.

Sam looked up, hearing the metallic creek of the roof door and recognized the girl from the elevator. Oddly enough, when he wasn't thinking of ways to avoid everyone's pitiful glances and their sad tones, he was thinking about her.

And his handkerchief. He really liked that thing.

"Hi," she pointed with a small smile, her eyes cutting to the burning trash can. "What are you doing on the roof?"

"Burning my ex fiancee's clothes. You?"

"Seeing how far I can throw my cell phone before my ex gets the picture to leave me the hell alone. He keeps calling."

"Why dont you change the number?" Sam offered.

She shrugged and walked over to him, her hands tucked in her back pockets. "It's so anticlimactic. It's more dramatic to just throw the phone off the building... Or to burn your fiancee's clothes."

"_Ex_-fiancee," he corrected.

"Ex fiancee," she nodded. "Because that's what people want to do when they get dumped or cheated on, right? They want dramatic ways to get over that person. They wanna burn their shit or break something just to prove how pissed they are and how they're getting over them when really, they're heartbroken."

Sam nodded at her words because they were the truest words he'd heard in the past week. Yes, he was angry with Darcy for hurting him and cheating with her ex but most of all he was heartbroken.

"Is that what you are?" he asked, wondering if his kindred spirit still felt the same. "Heartbroken?"

She broke eye contact and looked across the roof to another building. "I dont know... I dont even know if I loved him as much as I was infatuated with him. He treated me like a princess and I'd never had that before. But I think you have to love someone before you can be heartbroken when they leave. And do you ever really know if you're in love though? Like what are the definite signs?"

Sam tried to think of how he felt when he realized he was in love with Darcy. He couldn't put it into words, he just knew that everyday without her just wouldn't be as good as a day _with_ her.

"I couldn't tell you," he finally said.

She scrunched her nose in a way Sam couldn't help find adorable. "You know what I think one of the main signs is? Music. It makes sense. You think about that awful song you heard months ago and how it sounded so sugar plum and bubbly and you were cynical then so you blow it off but now that you're in love, you listen and you finally get it. You get the overdramatic, happy happy shit they sell because you have it and you cherish it."

Sam chuckled lightly, staring at the fire as it died down. "You still sound cynical."

She shook her her head and scrunched her nose once more. "Well I just got cheated on. I hear those songs and I want to kick something. Preferably my ex's face."

"Or throw your cellphone off your apartment roof?" he smirked.

She cracked a smile. "Yeah. Or that."

The final embers of the trash can fire died out and Sam sighed. She was right. Now that Darcy's clothes were nothing but pieces of ash, he felt a bit better but there was still a piece of him that was broken. It was nagging and annoying and he wondered if he'd have to burn the sofa they bought together to make it stop.

"I hope it gets easier," he whispered, as one last line of smoke ascended into the air.

"Yeah... Me too. Although I'm starting to think you have it way worse than me."

"What makes you think that?" he asked.

"You were engaged. You were ready to marry this girl and give her your name. Have kids with her when the time came. You seem like the type of guy that every girl wants."

"Except for _her_... And she didnt want me."

"She's an idiot."

"You dont even know her."

"I dont have to to know that she's an idiot." They met each other's eyes and smiled at one another, the trash can still between them.

"I never got your name," he said suddenly.

"You didnt did you?" she squinted. "And you never got your handkerchief back. Here." She handed it to him from her pocket, as if she'd been expecting to bump into him.

"Did you carry this around all week?" he asked, taking it from her hand.

"No," she shook her head. "But since I knew you lived in this building I didnt want to run the chance of bumping into you and not having it. I grabbed it every time I left my apartment."

"Well, thanks," he smiled.

"No problem." She spun on her heel and Sam thought for a moment, she was going to leave. For some odd reason, he didnt want her to. He liked talking to her and she didnt seem like most other girls he ran into and she was definitely the opposite of Darcy.

"Hey, do you like Chinese food?"

"I like food period," Sam shrugged.

"Let's hope so, you need it to live," she laughed. "I just ordered some and I'm probably not gonna finish it all by myself. Since I am by myself now. Wanna join me and we can bash our exes to each other. I mean, its not likely we're ever gonna meet them. This is a big city."

Sam didnt exactly have plans tonight. He was probably going to head back in, drink a beer or two and pass out on the couch. He'd originally wanted to be alone but now that she'd offered, he couldn't see himself saying no.

"Okay."

Her lips broke out into a broad grin and Sam felt a flutter of joy, seeing that he made her smile. They walked back towards the door. "Awesome. Oh but a warning, I have no furniture."

Sam stopped walking, frowning. "Dont tell me you threw your furniture off a building or burned it because your boyfriend bought it for you."

"_Ex_-boyfriend," she corrected, just as he had earlier.

"Ex-boyfriend," he smirked.

"Nope. I'm just trying to figure out how to get over to the storage place without involving _him_. It's his storage unit."

"We could always break in," Sam offered.

"_We_? Trying to feed off my drama I see."

He shrugged nonchalantly and followed her off the roof. "I burned all her things that she left here so I have nothing left."

"You've got plenty left," she scoffed.

Sam rose an eyebrow. "Like?"

"Burn the things she gave you," she said with a devious smirk.

He chuckled as they went down the stairs. "I like the way you think."

"Thank you. Maybe we can have a ceremonious exes bonfire. Invite the entire building."

Sam nodded. " '_Bring all your ex's crap and toss it into the fire pit! Win a free t-shirt_!' " he said in an announcer's voice, making her giggle.

"Well now I like the way _you_ think."

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**A/N: Chapter two and still no name from our mystery girl. (You guys know who it is lol) I'm really glad you guys like this story. I just plan on it being the cutest, fluffiest, angst free thing I've written. Okay, angst free is kinda taking it far. I like the angst but in this fic there will be minimum angst. I dont know how long it'll be. Maybe about 15 chapters. Maybe 10. Who's to say where my brain will take it. Anyways, thanks so much for the favorites and follows and reviews. They mean a lot. So make sure you review some more because they make me happy and inspire me to update faster lol. **


	3. The One With The Plain Name

**Dont own any characters but I do own the story. **

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Sam couldn't remember the last time he'd had this much fun. Maybe it was the beers or maybe it was because he hadn't cracked a smile in a week but this girl made him feel better when no one else seemed to be able to do that. She didnt pat his back and tell him that everything was going to be okay. She was in the same boat he was in and together, they found solace in each other's company. They'd gone down to his apartment instead of hers, since her lack of furniture inhibited them. He'd learned so much about her in the 20 minute long wait for the food. Like the fact that she lived nearly across the hall from him. He remembered, vaguely that the old woman who used to live in that apartment had moved but he never remembered seeing anyone else come in. He also learned that she was a lounge singer at night and a waitress during the day to pay for her apartment and that her ex boyfriend was named Matt and worked in financing. It seemed like the _only_ thing he hadn't learned about her during that time, was her name. It never came up. Perhaps during the impromptu exes bashing after the food had come, it just didn't matter but Sam at least wanted a name to put to her face.

"I can't believe it's supposed to be your wedding night. No wonder you were burning things," she said, twisting her chopsticks around a few noodles.

"You were right when you said dramatic. My forced declaration of independence."

"Where were you two planning on honeymooning?" she asked.

"Hawaii. Her family had a beach house in Oahu."

"Damn," she frowned. "I bet that would have been nice. You'd get all tan and you'd come back with the glow."

"Glow?" he asked in confusion.

She pushed around her noodles and shrugged. "You know, the glow. The one you get when you're in the honeymoon phase of your relationship. When everything is just golden and amazing without a blemish. _The glow._"

"Hmm... Well what do you call what I look like now?" he wondered.

She tapped her chin for a moment before answering. "Drunk sexy with a hint of bitter shade."

Sam laughed hysterically, his food nearly falling out of his carton. "Thanks."

"You're very welcome," she winked.

"What about you? What would you be doing right now if you hadn't caught Matt with what's her face."

"Well, it's Saturday night so we'd probably be out at some amazing restaurant, eating something that cost more than my car and apartment combined and then we'd come home and just relax. You know what I'm gonna miss about him the most?"

"What?"

"The way we used to sit at home on Saturday mornings and I'd be in my sweat pants with no make up on. I'd watch him sneak in a few hours of work even though he promised not to. It was simple. Domestic. I liked it."

"Hm...I never pegged you for the domestic type."

She got that now familiar mischievous glint in her eyes and smirked. "I'm a wild card Sam Evans. You'll never be able to place me under one category. Well, except for scorned ex-lover."

"Cant forget that," he chuckled. "You know, I used to watch cartoons on Saturday mornings with a bowl of cereal in front of me. And just when I got comfortable Darce would get me to go to some flea market when all I really wanted was to watch Loony Toons and not shower."

She stared at him seriously for a moment before laughing into her hand. "Every man has an eight year old stuck in their brains."

"Apparently," Sam smiled, taking a sip of his beer.

She reached over him and grabbed another beer, popping the top off, even though her first wasn't even finished. "To our exes. The idiots who lost us and will realize too late just how amazing we are."

Sam rose his own bottle into the air, and agreed.

"To our exes."

They agreed after they cracked open the third round of beers that talking about exes was going to be off-limits and saying either of their names would result in a some type of punishment, although they hadnt figured out just what kind yet.

"What do you even do for a living?" she questioned.

"You've never seen my name in the paper before?" he asked.

She shook her head, frowning. "Oh god, are you a serial killer?"

"What? No!" he chuckled. "I take pictures for The New York Gazette."

She nodded slowly. "Hm. Now that I think about it, maybe I have heard your name before."

Sam laughed, chewing on a piece of dumpling he'd bitten off. "Speaking of names. I've gotta know yours."

"Unh-uh," she shook her head with a smirk, sipping from her drink. "Maybe after."

"After what?" he furrowed his brows in confusion.  
"After I get you to fall madly in love with me," she joked. "Or at least until I'm on your mind so much that you can't go another second without hearing my voice."

Sam licked the soy sauce from his lips and shook his head. "I don't see myself falling in love any time soon."

"Boy, don't I know," she said. "But it's nice to imagine, right? Falling in love one day."

"Nope," he shook his head.

"Well you're cynical right now, your opinion doesn't count."

"So were you up on the roof."

"I'm a woman, I'm allowed to change my mind," she quipped.

"Ah, so that's why Darce cheated on me." His tone was bitter and made her place her beer bottle down on the counter top and stare at Sam.

"You just broke the golden rule."

"Do unto others as you would have them do unto you?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Nope. You said an ex's name. Let's just go twenty minutes without thinking about them?"

Sam cleared his throat, before glancing at the ground. "I can't," he whispered. He wanted to be strong and not think about Darcy but every five seconds she crossed his mind. It was in the little things. The way the fridge looked bare without their pictures or the way it still seemed like the apartment smelled like her.

"Yeah, me neither," she said back. "But it's nice to think we can."

He brought his bottle to his lips and nodded, taking a gulp. He didn't want to think about Darcy, and he especially didn't want to think about the fact that today was what was supposed to be his wedding night. "What's your name?" he asked, the thought nagging at him more than Darcy was.

"Why?" she asked, her eyes squinting mischievously.

"Because I have to know it."

"Why? Are you gonna steal my identity?"

"No," he laughed. "But I've gotta know what to call you. Or at least what to call you in my head when you're on my mind so much."

She chuckled and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "If I tell you my name will you promise never to mention your ex again?"

"No. But I can promise to not mention her for the rest of the night."

"Year?" she asked hopefully.

"Night."

"Month?"

"Night."

"Week?"

"_Night_."

She groaned dramatically and placed the half eaten carton of noodles on the table. "Fine. Night."

Sam looked at her expectantly and waited for her to tell him. "Well..."

"What?"

"Your name."

"It's gonna ruin the mystery of the friendship."

Sam couldn't help but laugh. "How?"

"We wont have anymore secrets between us. We know about each other's ex's already and from that mini Ewok figurine I can tell you're a total nerd. And the fact that I know what an Ewok is, you now know that I'm a nerd. My name is the last frontier."

He cracked a smile, still staring at her. "How about we explore the final frontier then."

"Fine," she said with a huff. "It's Mhrmmms."

"You totally mumbled that. Seriously. Your name."

"Ugh, it's Mercedes. Happy?"

He said it a few times, as if to roll it around his tongue before nodding gently. "Nice name. Kind of a let down though."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I was hoping for something a little more crazy since you were holding out on me for so long."

She chuckled and crossed her legs. "Something crazy like what?"

Sam shrugged. "I dunno. Apple? Blue? North? Something kinda _out there_. Not something plain like Mercedes."

"You think my name's plain?" she giggled.

"Yeah," he nodded. "Plainer than the names I was thinking in my head."

She snorted and shook her head slowly. "Sorry to disappoint."

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**A/N: Hey guys! Back with chapter three. I've decided that this story is going to be a little different than my others. Like how my others were linear and went a day by day with small jumps in time, this one wont be like that. It'll be large jumps in time like month by month. You wont miss anything and I might even add in some outtakes at the end of the story from things you didnt get to read but for now, I wanna get this story going. **

**I'm so grateful that you guys like this story because I was really and I mean REALLY hesitant to post it because I just didnt wanna do glee stuff anymore but now I'm like fuck that show. My stuff is better than that and just because I happen to have characters from that show in my fic, they arent associated whatsoever. But seriously, thanks for reading and reviewing and favoriting already. Bless your little hearts. Make sure you review (I love long ass reviews btw *hint hint*) so feel free. **

**Until next time! **


	4. The One Where We Meet The Guys

**disclaimer: I own nothing but this idea. **

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_**"The statistics on sanity are that one out of every four Americans is suffering from some form of mental illness. Think of your three best friends. If they're okay, then it's you." -**_**Rita Mae Brown**

"Hey buddy..."

Sam winced at the tone. That tone that everyone had been giving him since he'd announced his canceled wedding.. The tone that said, 'oh thank god, you haven't jumped off a building yet'

"Hey guys," he said, looking up with a smile as his two coworkers entered his office.

"How ya holding up? I have some brownies Quinn made if you want some," Mike offered.

"Stop trying to feed me man," Sam chuckled. "I'm fine."

It was far from the truth but he was sick of being this week's news around the office. Even the mail girl who normally hit on him was giving him a sad look.

"I'm just worried is all," Mike shrugged, taking a seat in one of the seats.

Everyone was worried about him it seemed. He'd received more phone calls now than he normally did, as if someone had died. But someone had died. Darcy and Sam had died. Their names would never be together as a pair ever again and even though he was trying to stay strong, it still hurt, still stung, still burned him that she'd cheated.

"We're both worried," Puck added with a nod. "We know what this weekend was. We wish you'd have called one of us. We could have gone out to the bar to get you a rebound-"

"Or-," Mike cut in. "Just to hang out. You know we're here for you."

Sam flipped through a few of the pictures he'd taken and nodded. The break up was the last thing he wanted to talk about. It had occupied so much space in his mind that his work barely had any left. He'd decided on the train ride over, that he'd throw himself into work, forget about Darcy and the pain and focus on his photos. But how could he do that when every picture he snapped, he thought of her. Of her eyes or her hair, or the way her pink lips pulled apart when she caught him staring at her in amazement and awe.

She was his perfect woman and she'd broken him so completely that he was sure he could never be repaired.

"I'm fine."

It was becoming a lie he told people instead of speaking the truth. _I'm fine_, to him now meant, _leave me the hell alone, stop bringing it up_.

"That's bullshit man," Puck scoffed, flopping into one of the chairs. "You just got dumped. More than dumped. Your ass just got dropped like a bad habit."

"Can you be gentler Puck?" Mike hissed, giving him a scolding look. "What he's trying to say is we can tell you aren't fine. Talk to us."

"I'm fine, seriously," Sam nodded. "In fact the other night I was hanging out with my neighbor so I wasn't alone on _that_ night."

He decided it would be best to leave out the part where he burned all of Darcy's left over clothes because Mike would worry even more, something he didn't need right now.

Puck groaned loudly. "Oh come on man, you know only old people live in your building. What? You're driving Ms. Daisy now?"

"She's actually just 25."

Puck sat up paying full attention to the conversation.

"So... It was a date?" Mike questioned with a raised eyebrow. He wasn't as obvious as Puck but he wanted Sam to move on just as much.

"No. I met her on the elevator... Long story but she just got out of a relationship too."

"Mmm so it's like a lonely hearts club?" Puck muttered, clasping his hands under his chin. "Interesting... Is she hot and/or bangable?"

Sam shook his head, trying to hide the smile tugging on his lips. "Not answering those questions but there isn't much to tell. We laughed, had a few beers. It was like hanging out with you guys or Stevie."

"Except she had boobs," Puck smirked. "And what size would you say they were?"

Mike gave his coworker an incredulous look. "Seriously? How are you married?"

"I dunno," Puck shrugged, staring down at the gold band on his left hand. "I'm trying to figure it out myself."

"It wasn't like that," Sam said, once more, standing. He picked up a few of the pictures and handed them to Mike. "Here. For your article."

Mike looked over them, smiling at the shots. "You never cease to amaze me Sam. I ask you for pictures of dancers at that dance class and you go above and beyond. But the piece got axed."

"What? Why?"

Mike lifted his eyes from the pile and sighed. "Jesse said there's no space in the budget for my quote, unquote "fluff piece"."

"What?!" Sam scoffed. "It was not a fluff piece. People need to know about that dance class and that it's keeping kids out of trouble. If anything Rachel's piece on shoes is a fluff piece."

"Well she's boning him so she gets the space that good journalists deserve," Puck sucked his teeth. "I hear that The Hamptons piece is up for grabs since summer starts in a few months."

"Really?" Mike said.

"Yeah... And since we already know which photographer is gonna get it, Mikey, you should go for it."

He crossed his arms across his chest and smiled. "I just might."

"Well hurry up," Puck spoke, standing. "Before Rachel gets her hands on it."

"Alright, alright," Mike groaned, making a face. He turned around to look at Sam once more. "You sure you're gonna be okay?"

"I'm fine," Sam lied, yet again. "You guys go. Besides, I'm pretty sure I left my memory card at home."

"Okay," Mike said with a sad smile. "But tonight, we're coming over."

Sam groaned once more. "You guys don't have to."

"Yes we do," Puck said, eyeing him. "Tina wants to have another baby and that shit aint happening. I'm using you as my excuse for why I wont be home."

Mike shook his head, patting Puck's back as they walked out of the office. "We'll see you later?"

Sam wanted to say no, and tell them that he'd rather stay home alone, figuring out what stage of grief he was in now, but instead, nodded and flopped back in his chair as they left.

He closed his eyes for a moment, until a shrill voice broke his silence.

Rachel was the last person he wanted to deal with today, especially with her faux perkiness. If Sam didn't know any better, he'd think she'd taken something to hype her up everyday but since he'd went to high school with her, he knew, this was just her regular personality. He remembered the day he first got a job at the Gazette and how he'd heard her high pitch squeals from all the way down the hall before she came running towards him, rambling about what a wild coincidence it was that they were now going to work together.

"Sam," she squealed, causing him to wince at her high pitch tone.

"Hi Rachel," he mumbled, looking up at her. "What can I do for you?"

"I was wondering if you had the pictures for the Chanel fashion show last week?" she asked, her energy level on ten.

"I gave the piece to Allison, remember? Right before she went on maternity leave," he said, rubbing at his temples.

"Oh... Right," she squeaked. "I guess I'll just have to call her for them then."

"Yeah."

He hoped she took that as her cue to go because he really would rather not be bothered by her right now.

Much to his dismay, she didn't leave and instead, sat down across from him.

"Sam?"

He dropped his hand from his head and stared at her in slight annoyance. "Yes, Rachel?"

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." This time he actually meant, _get the hell out of my office._

Rachel reached across the table, grabbing his hand and gave them a reassuring squeeze. "Are you sure? I know about Darcy and the _cheating_ thing," she whispered.

He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion since he'd never told anyone that cheating was the reason they'd broken up.

"How did you-"

"I take spin class with Darcy's little sister, Marley. She told me _everything_ and when I told her how miserable you'd been looking at work lately I-"

"Wait, what?" he stopped her, pulling his hand out of her grip. "You told Marley how miserable I've been looking? I don't look miserable."

She frowned, giving him a pitiful look. "You do. And I consider us more than just coworkers. I consider us friends. I'm worried about you. And if you ask me, Darcy didn't deserve you."

He wasn't about to have a conversation about Darcy with Rachel of all people. Especially not at work.

"I'm fine Rachel. I actually have some work I need to be doing so," he said, his eyes darting between her and the door.

"I understand," she nodded, standing to her feet. "But if you ever need anyone to talk to. About anything at all, I'm here."

She gave his clasped hands one last pat before sashaying out of his office, her skirt swaying as she did.

Sam waited until he saw her walk into her own office before he spun around in his chair, in shock. If Marley knew that he was miserable, then that meant that she most likely told Darcy. So his ex-fiancee was walking around thinking that he was miserable at work because of her. Granted, he _was_ miserable but he never wanted to admit it. And he definitely didn't want anyone to pointing it out to him

* * *

"Hey. You coming or going?"

He heard her voice before he saw her and it brought a genuine smile to his face. Not one of the fake ones he'd been putting on all day when people asked him if he was alright but a real smile that he'd somehow, reserved for her. Sam pulled his key out of his apartment door and turned around.

"Hey. I'm coming. I just got off of work. You?"

Mercedes shrugged, placing her bag over her head. "Going to work. I'm singing at the lounge tonight. You should come see me if you aren't busy."

Sam wanted so badly to tell her that he'd be there. Ever since she'd told him she was a lounge singer, he'd been itching to hear her sing. But he remembered his plans with Puck and Mike and knew he couldn't bail on them, especially since they were still 'worried'. They wouldn't let him live it down the same way the wouldn't let him live this break up down.

"I can't. My friends are kind of forcing me to hang out with them."

"You have friends?" she asked seriously before cracking a smile. "I'm kidding. Bring them along. The more the merrier."

"Really?"

"Yeah," she said, pressing the button to the elevator.

It took Sam half a second to agree. "Okay. Where's the lounge?"

"It's in Harlem off of 120th and Lenox. If you pass The Apollo, you've gone too far. It's called Diabla's Lounge," she smiled. "You can't miss it."

The elevator doors opened and Mercedes went to get on.

"Okay," Sam said, taking the few steps away from his door to stand in front of the elevator and see her off. "See you there then."

"Yeah, see you there. I might even sing a song for you. How's _All By Myself _sound?"

He chuckled, giving her a gentle nod. "Perfect song."

"Good." The elevator doors shut just as he lifted a hand to wave to her.

* * *

**A/N: *whispers* _filler_... Who said that?! No but really this chapter was kinda an info filler, meaning you get to meet some of the other people in Sam's life, including Rachel who I plan on having lots of fun with lol. And gasp! Darcy is Marley's older sister? idk where it came from, random but whatevs. I originally didnt have it that Sam was going to hear Mercedes sing like ever lol But I saw a review and someone just stated matter of factly that he was going to hear her sing and I was just like, okay. Might as well go with it. So he's going to hear her sing next chapter and he's bringing along Puck and Mike, maybe even Stevie? I havent decided yet. And Diabla's Lounge? You guys can guess who's showing up in the next chapter. But I hope you guys liked this one!**

**Make sure you let me know EVERYTHING you liked. Because long reviews make me happy. I'm like Tinkerbell but instead of claps, it's reviews. Dont let me die.. believe! Okay, I'm stopping with the weirdness. **


	5. The One Where They Go To Harlem

**Disclaimer: We all know I dont own it. If I did, I wouldnt be writing fanfiction right now. I'd be working on that shit show called glee and trying to figure out how to get it back to it's Season 2 glory.**

**Dont own the songs either. I sing them both off key though. **

* * *

"Harlem?" Puck frowned as they climbed into the smoke filled cab. "When you said we were going out instead of staying in, I thought you meant out _out _not out to where we could get mugged and killed."

Sam wound up sitting on the far side of the cab with Puck in between him and Mike, while Stevie was in the front seat, his body turned half way around to hold a conversation

Sam called them all as soon as he'd stepped foot in the apartment and convinced them to go out instead of coming over to his apartment. Puck immediately agreed to get away from his baby crazed wife and Mike said yes out of worry for Sam. Stevie was the hardest to get to come out on a Friday night.

Sam looked at his younger brother and saw just how completely different they were. Sam was calm and tended to shy away from crowds while Stevie basked in being the center of attention. Even now he was chatting up the cab driver as they drove down the busy streets of New York City. While Sam was an introvert who had moments of being outgoing, Stevie was the perfect extrovert, on all the time and willing to do anything for a laugh.

"Okay Sammy," Stevie turned around with a bright smile. "You drag me out of my apartment on a Friday night and you tell me we're going to go hear some chick sing."

"She's not _some chick_," Sam correct, flicking his finger over Stevie's hat. "She's my neighbor."

Stevie squinted his eyes in confusion. "Isnt your building a retirement home or something?"

"That's exactly what I said," Puck added, adjusting himself in his seat.

Sam rolled his eyes and looked out the window, his warm breath making the glass fog up. "You see one old guy and you assume my building is for the elderly. She's 25!"

"Well what's her name?" Mike asked, looking behind Puck's head to stare at Sam.

"Mercedes," Sam said with an involuntary smile. Things like that seemed to be happening to him more often now. He'd think of her and smile or recall a conversation they'd had in passing and laugh at something she'd said.

Stevie gave a slight nod at the name before speaking. "That's a stripper's name."

"Yeah, total stripper's name," Puck agreed.

"She's not a stripper!" Sam huffed.

Mike contained his laughed and shook his head. "Lay off of Sam, okay. Tonight's about him finally going out and getting over _you know who_."

Sam looked at Mike appreciatively as he patted his back. Mike was always the sane one out of the trio, while Puck and Stevie were cut from the same cloth. The only difference was that Puck was happily married and Stevie was taking full advantage of his freedom and lack of commitment.

"No one has addressed my fear of being killed on the streets of Harlem," Puck complained.

Mike rolled his eyes and slapped the back of Puck's head. "No one's getting killed. 120th and Lenox is completely safe. And busy. There's no person lurking around the corner waiting to shank you."

Puck scoffed, unconvinced. "Yeah because you spend your free time in Harlem, Mike. Didnt you grow up in Chelsea?"

"Yeah, so what?" Mike asked, wondering what neighborhood he grew up in had to do with their conversation.

Puck shrugged. "Nothing..."

"No what? Tell me," Mike insisted.

"Nothing man, seriously nothing."

Stevie turned around and chuckled at his brother's friends. "You two argue more than a married couple."

"How would you know what married couples argue like, permanent bachelor," Puck said.

Stevie gasped, as if he was offended and brought his hand to his chest. "Hey, it's hard to be single right now, okay. Pick up lines dont work anymore and girls are listening to Steve Harvey now and doing that whole 90 day rule thing. It is difficult," he said, dramatically. "But hey at least I go my big brother out there with me."

Sam cut his eyes to Stevie, causing him to shrink in his seat.

"I just meant... I mean... You and I on the prowl. Evans men... Wooh," Stevie muttered, wimply before turning back in his seat.

Sam chuckled, going to look back out the window. There was something about New York City late at night that brought him peace. It was always alive and even though he'd grown up here, he still found himself amazed by it everyday. He remembered his father grumbling about how he couldn't wait to get out of the city. He hated everything about it. The traffic, the people, the lights, the noises. Everything that Sam loved about his home, his father hated. And he died, never getting the chance to experience life outside the city.

"I think we're here," Mike said, looking out the window at the coupled buildings, one of them having a red neon sign reading _Diabla's Lounge_.

The cab stopped and when Sam reached into his pocket to pay the driver, Puck shoved his hand away.

"My treat. Tonight's about you so you dont pay for anything."

"That include drinks?" Sam asked, jokingly.

Puck nodded, sliding out of the cab. "Of course. Mike's paying for those."

Mike looked up in shock. "Wait, what? We didnt agree on tha-"

"For our friend," Puck sighed, clapping his hand on his back. "Let's do this!"

The four men walked into the lounge, each with wide eyes.

Sam didnt know what to expect. In his head when he heard the word _lounge_, he thought of an old fashioned club with a piano on the stage for people who wanted to sing. But what he was met with was the opposite. There was a stage, but that was about the only thing Sam had imagined correctly. A bar scaled across the floor of the building followed by a large area for dancing.

"This place is nice," Stevie nodded, bobbing his head to the beat of the song. His gaze went around the room before landing on the bartender.

"You guys want drinks?" Stevie asked, his eyes never leaving the bartender.

"Are you offering to pay?" Mike asked, hopefully.

Stevie laughed quickly, looking up. "No. But I'll go and get them," he said, holding out his hand for money.

Sam, Stevie and Puck looked to him as he groaned dramatically and pulled out his wallet, slapping a crisp twenty dollar bill in Stevie's hand.

"Oh come on Mikey, dont pout," Puck teased, poking his friend's cheek. "You know you're richer than all of us."

"Shut up Puck," Mike said while swatting his hand away.

Stevie made his way to the crowded bar and put on a level of charm, Sam wasn't sure he'd seen before. He watched him as Puck and Mike bickered back and forth about who should really be paying for drinks.

"All I'm saying is, you were _actually_ going to be a groomsmen. I was just an usher. You pay," Puck shrugged, nonchalantly.

"That doesnt count," Mike shook his head.

Stevie grinned at the bartender and cleared his throat. "'Scuse me gorgeous?"

"What do you want to drink?" she bit out, her eyes never meeting his while her hands maneuvered the beer spouts.

"Uh.." Stevie was thrown off by her attitude and tried again. "My friends and I would like four beers. And a round of shots. Give yourself one too, it's on me."

If Stevie weren't his brother, he'd be laughing at how hard Stevie was trying with this bartender and she wasn't giving him anything.

"I dont drink on the job," she smiled.

"Well maybe after you get off of work we could-"

She cut him off by slamming a glass down on the counter. "No offense. I'm sure some women find whatever _this _is cute, but not me. Here are your drinks."

She slid the four glasses towards him and plastered on a smile. "Will you be opening up a tab or is this all?"

Stevie was at a loss for words and stared at her as she waited for him to speak. It was time for Sam to intervene, something he never did when Stevie was on the "prowl".

"Tab," he smiled, reaching for the four glasses. "Put it under the name S. Evans. Thank you."

"You're welcome," she nodded, fliting off to help another customer. Stevie was still frozen in his spot and Sam had to bump him to get him to snap out of it.

"Get the shots."

Stevie nodded and picked up the four small glasses, following behind Sam.

"You're his best friend," Puck said, as they walked back. "You pay."

"You're as much his best friend as I am," Mike said back.

Sam interrupted them, handing them each their own glass. "Guys... I opened up a tab. I'll pay for the drinks. No worries."

They both shook their heads, telling him that he didnt have to but he'd rather pay then have them argue over which one of them had to.

"I cant believe she turned me down," Stevie whispered into his glass.

Sam snickered, wrapping an arm around Stevie's neck and turned towards the stage when a voice broke through the loud chatters of the patrons.

"Hey, hey everyone. It's about that time again," the woman said, her long raven locks swaying as she spoke into the microphone. A few people cheered, making her smile mischievously. "Yes it is. You already know what's about to go down and since there are no words I can use to introduce our next performer, here she is. The one. The only. Mercy J."

The crowd applauded, Sam and his group following suit.

"Hey," Puck nudged Sam after taking a sip of his beer. "You never told us what your neighbor looked like."

Sam went to speak but heard a soft giggle into the microphone. It hadnt even been that long since he'd known her and he could tell that giggle from anywhere. He nodded his head towards the stage and smirked. "She looks like that."

There was an audible gasped shared between Puck and Stevie and probably Mike too as they stared at the stage.

"Holy hell she's hot," Puck spoke quickly.

Mike nodded in silent agreement, which Sam found amusing.

"You had us thinking your neighbor was a total troll," Stevie mumbled, looking between Mercedes and then Sam. "Listen... You two arent like-"

"Off limits," Sam warned. "She's a friend. Last thing I need is my little brother sleeping with her, promising to call her and never speaking to her again. I've gotta live across from her."

Stevie raised his hands in surrender. "Hey, I was just asking."

Mercedes cupped the mic and smiled out to the crowd. "Thank you Santana for that weak introduction."

"What do you want from me, you need no introduction," she called from her place off the stage.

Mercedes rolled her eyes and turned back to the crowd. "How ya doing tonight Harlem?" The crowd cheered in response. "I know you can do better than that." They cheered louder, causing her to smile into the mic. "That's what I thought. You guys ready?"

She swayed as the music started and closed her eyes, her face growing serious.

Puck squinted, snapping his fingers a few times. "I know this song. Why do I know this song?"

"Right," Stevie agreed. "What's it called? We know what it's called but what is it?"

Sam watched in wonderment as Mercedes sang, ignoring the fact that Puck and Stevie still couldn't place the song. As soon as she opened her mouth, it was like the entire world melted away around him, and nothing else mattered. Not Darcy, not his broken heart. Her voice had transported him to somewhere else.

"It's _Try A Little Tenderness_," Sam answered their ongoing question, his eyes never leaving the stage. He was enraptured by her voice and the way she commanded the crowd's attention. A smile tugged at his lips as his foot tapped to the beat. He wasn't even sure if he was blinking or breathing but it didnt matter.

The song and her voice was his air.

Sam pulled his eyes away reluctantly and he soon realized he wasn't the only one out of his group awestruck. Mike hadnt spoken one word since Mercedes started singing, his mouth hanging open and his eyes sparkling.

"She's amazing," Mike mumbled. "She's better than amazing she's... I dont know but give me a minute to figure out a word that fits her."

"I had no idea she had a voice like that," Sam shook his head as the song wrapped up, and clapped like a mad man.

"Thank you," Mercedes bowed, giggling at the whistles. "Stop it, you guys are going to give me a big head. You guys want another one?" She couldn't help but smile as they shouted their approval at her. "Okay, okay. How about..." She stopped mid sentence seeing Sam in the back of the crowd and gave him a little wave.

He waved back, ignoring the questioning looks from a few people in the crowd, including the woman who was on stage just before Mercedes got on.

"Okay," she continued. "How about a good break up song. For all of you who's been broken up with, cheated on and dumped wrongfully. This is for you."

Her brown eyes met Sam's green ones before she started to snap her fingers to the melodic song.

_"I see you driving 'round town_

_With the girl I love and I'm like,_

_Fuck you!"_

"Seriously, where did you find this girl, she's the coolest," Puck grinned, singing along.

"On the elevator." Sam laughed in astonishment when she winked at him, still singing. He'd never had anyone dedicate a break up song to him before and especially not one as angry as this one. But he was going to take it with gratitude and hum along as he pictured Darcy's face.

Mike snapped out of his trance, realizing something of importance. "Wait a minute. Stevie, where's my twenty dollars?"

* * *

**A/N: Chapter five! It was originally supposed to be paired with CH. 4 but I didnt want it to be too long so I cut it up in half. I really REALLY liked writing this chapter because I loooved writing the guys and how they interact with one another. And if you can tell from the dialogue and who was contributing, Puck and Stevie are the life of the party while Sam kinda chills in the background. But yeah, I think so far, this was my favorite chapter to write. And especially the ending. Next chapter, just a lot of fluff okay. Be prepared lol**

**Oh and someone said they pictured Darcy as Shanae Grimes from Degrassi and 90210. Kinda perfect actually. So when you think of Darcy, think of her. And picture Stevie as Austin Bulter (changed it!) just because he's nice to imagine and think about. **


	6. The One Where Sam Trashes The Place

**I dont own Glee. If I did, I'd have my own island. No, I wouldnt have enough money. Does anyone even still watch that show? **

* * *

**April**

Sam was positive he had at least another hour of sleep left when he heard the knocking at his front door. He'd been sleeping on the couch, like he did most nights, not wanting to fall asleep in the bed that _they _shared. He hadn't slept in that since Darcy had left. The sheets hadn't changed and he didn't even bother adjusting the throw pillows that were scattered on it from the last time she was in the house. He couldn't even bring himself to look in there, especially on today of all days.

It would have been six years since they'd been together.

Six long years of happiness and joy and love. Six years that had been cut short because of one indiscretion. Sam wished he could just forgive Darcy for it, but she'd never asked for it. That was what hurt him the most. She'd told him about Harvey and left. It was the not being wanted that Sam found himself hurting the most over.

He rolled off the couch, groaning when the knocking on the person on the other side of the door became more persistent and shuffled to open it, only to be met with a box of Cap'n Crunch.

"So I remember how you told me your ex never let you sit in and eat cereal in your pjs all day so now that you're single, we have to rectify that," Mercedes said, poking her head out from besides the box. There was a bright, pink scarf atop her head, tied neatly into a knot.

"What?" he asked, running fingers through his hair. It was messy, like he'd gotten in a fight with his pillow and his back was still stiff.

"It's Saturday morning," she said with a giggle and big eyes.

"It is," he nodded, rubbing his still tired eyes. "It's also 7 am."

"Oh come on, that's when all the good cartoons start," she said, walking into the apartment, a bowl tucked under her arm. She was dressed in footie pajamas that were head to toe cheetah print. Sam snorted and shut the door behind her.

"What are you wearing?" he asked, still trying not to laugh.

"Pajamas," she spun around, smiling brightly. "Which is more than I can say for you."

Sam looked down at his bare chest and went to put on a hoodie that was thrown over the couch but didn't zip it. When he looked up, Mercedes was seated, her legs crossed and a smile on her lips. "Come on lazy bones, Loony Toons is about to start."

He shook his head at her but grabbed a bowl, milk, and spoons and took a seat next to her.

They poured cereal into the bowls and ate in silence as the show came on.

"Thanks," Sam finally said gently. She'd come at the perfect time on the perfect day. Surely she'd cheer him up when all he wanted to do was wallow in his own misery.

"You're welcome. And I promise, I wont drag you to any flea market."

"Thank god. So, Mike and Puck keep asking about you. And Stevie wants your number."

After Mercedes had gotten off the stage, only after singing three more songs, his friends had swarmed her, bombarding her with questions upon questions.

Mike had asked about her music since he was a huge fan of the arts, Puck just stared and Stevie flirted.

Hard.

Sam didn't know what annoyed him more about that. The fact that Stevie was flirting with his friend or the fact that Mercedes wasn't exactly turning him away.

"How old's your brother anyways?" she asked, breaking his thoughts.

Sam took a bite of his cereal before answering her. "23."

She hummed, staring back at her bowl. "I really did like your friends. They're nice. And funny."

"They liked you. I'm guessing it's because you're pretty and can sing."

Mercedes cooed and reached over to pinch his cheeks. "You think I'm pweety," she said in a baby voice.

Sam chuckled and rubbed his now red cheek. "I'm repeating what I hear from them."

"Mhm, sure."

They watched cartoons for hours, until the box of Cap'n Crunch was finished. Sam grabbed both of their bowls and walked to the kitchen. There was a knock at the door but his hands were too busy in the soapy water to answer it.

"Can you get that?"

Mercedes looked up from her spot on the couch and nodded. "So we're moving that fast huh? I'm answering your door now and everything. Sheesh, buy me dinner first," she joked, walking towards the door and pulling it open. She greeted the woman with a warm smile and ignored the way she was sizing her up. She knew she looked crazy in the footie pajamas but the older woman was looking at her as if she were an alien that had found her way to earth.

"... Is Sam in?" the woman asked, her blonde hair in a tight bun.

"Uh yeah," Mercedes nodded. "Hey Sam!"

"Yeah?" he shouted from the kitchen.

"There's someone here for you."

"Who is it?" Sam called back, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

Mercedes turned back to the woman. "I'm sorry, what was your name?"

The woman looked a bit shocked and adjusted her shirt. "Tell him it's his mother."

"It's your mo-" she stopped and faced the woman, still sizing her up. She realized how this must have looked and ran a hand over her head, praying she'd at least taken her scarf off.

She hadn't.

Sam bound around the corner, his hands still wet and poked his head around the door. "Who is- Mom?!"

"Hi Sammy," she smiled brightly, still eyeing Mercedes. "I've been calling and you aren't answering so I had to come here and make sure you're alive."

"I... Uh..." He glanced down at Mercedes who had the most uncomfortable look on her face.

"Arent you going to invite me in or do you need a minute?"

"N-no.. Come in." He stepped back and giving her space to enter. "Oh mom this is my friend Mercedes. Cedes, this is my mom, Mary."

"Hi," she waved awkwardly. "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise."

"Oh," she gasped, tapping the side of her head as if she'd had an idea. "Speaking of Mom, I should go call mine. She has... The flu!"

"In April?" Mary asked, skeptically.

"...Mhm... I'll see you later Sam."

"But your bowl-"

"I'll get it later," she said over her shoulder, walking out of the apartment.

Sam turned around, giving his mom a quick kiss on the cheek. "I'm sorry I haven't called. I've just been... Busy."

"Obviously. Who was that?"

"Just my neighbor."

"Your neighbor who answers your door in footie pajamas while you're half-naked?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Mom, I'm not half-naked. I have a hoodie on. And it's not like what you're thinking."

"What am I thinking Sammy?"

"That I'm sleeping with her."

"Are you?"

"I just got dumped a month ago, so no, I'm not sleeping with her."

Mary took a seat on the couch, pushing the pillows over and looked up to face her son. "It amazes me that you can spend an entire night out on the town with Stevie but you can't call me back."

"Mom," Sam started, sitting on the other chair. "I told you I've been busy. I didn't even want to go out with Stevie."

Mary went to speak but found no words came out. Her face scrunched in a way that showed she was going to sob, something that Sam didn't want. He'd been specifically avoiding his mother just to keep her from crying over something he'd yet to shed a tear over.

"Mom, don't."

She waved her hand as he reached for her. "I'm fine... I just didn't think she'd do this to you."

"I'm fine."

He was getting sick of saying that. He was sick of lying to everyone and claiming that he was fine when he wasn't. He was far from fine. He was dying on the inside, the world he knew crashed around and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

"I know you loved her so much... I should have seen it. I'm so sorry honey."

Mary pulled him into a hug before he could protest, forcing him out of his chair. Sam knelt in front of his mother as she hugged him, rubbing a soothing hand over his back.

"It's okay Mom. I'm-"

"Samuel if you say you're fine one more time." She pulled away and placed a hand under his chin. "I know you're not okay. Who could be after what she did?"

"I am," he whispered, standing on a shaky leg. "I am okay."

He was getting good at it now, lying to everyone, which now included his mother. He put on a smile, said he was fine and brushed the break up to the side. But when did he get to really acknowledge what had happened?

Not when he was alone.

When he was alone, he thought up ways to not think about it. To ignore that longing in the middle of his chest. And now it was becoming tiring. But he had to be strong. He had to put on a brave face.

"I'm fine," he mumbled one last time, like a robot, trying to convince himself that he was indeed fine and okay and he'd manage but he wasn't managing. He wasn't living. He was existing. He spent so much time trying to function properly that he was starting to believe his own façade. If he didn't think about her, he'd be okay. He'd go through the day-to-day motions and push away memories that threatened to attach themselves to him like blood thirsty parasites.

He hadn't even cried. He willed himself not to. Not on the day he found out, not on the day his wedding was meant to be on. And he refused to do it today of all days. So, when his mother left, only after cooking him a meal, he sat on the couch, staring at the glow of his television.

His eyes darted to the throw pillows beside him and then to the plants that accented the apartment. Little things that were uniquely Darcy's taste. Things that Sam couldn't care less about.

A surge of energy went through him and before he could stop, he found himself, taking the pillows and stuffing them in a trash bag. The plants were next, and then the magnets on the fridge. Every small thing that Darcy had placed around their apartment, he'd put in the trash bag.

The small mirror in the hallway.

The cloth shower curtain.

The candles on the coffee table.

The accent pieces on the end tables.

Sam dropped the bag, feeling his heart beat painfully through his chest. He needed to move the furniture around so it didn't look like her hands had touched it. He roughly pushed the chair over, not caring if the neighbors downstairs complained or not. He yanked the couch from against the wall, bringing it to center of the room. He unplugged the TV, and intended to move it when another idea hit him. He could deal with the living room later but he wanted to sleep at night. He wanted to walk into his bedroom, climb into his bed and sleep without wondering where Darcy was sleeping.

Sam stormed to the bedroom and ripped the comforter off the bed in a rush, shoving them in the trash bag. He didn't want her things on his bed.

His hand went to the lamp and winced as it crashed to the ground, shattering into several pieces. He stared at the pieces and picked them up, cutting his hand in the process. The pain didn't matter, nor the blood. All that matter was getting _her_ out of his apartment and out of his head.

"Hello?" he heard being called from his living room. It was Mercedes and he was too far gone to answer back. He was on a rampage, one that he couldn't stop.

"Are you redecorating or something?" she called, her voice getting closer. "Oh yeah, great way to meet your mom by the-"

She stopped as she entered the room, seeing Sam looking like a wild man, his face contorted in anger and his hand red with blood.

"Hey," she whispered. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," he rushed out, still bumbling around the room, tearing down the curtains.

"Whoa! Sam," she jumped when the rods fell to the ground. "What's going on?"

"I'm just doing some spring cleaning."

"At 9 o'clock at night? Makes sense," she said sarcastically, stepping over the ruffled rug on the ground. "You should wrap up your hand."

He shook his head, stuffing more pillows from the bed into the trash bag. So many pillows. Darcy's idea.

"Sam," Mercedes whispered as she got closer. He wasn't hearing her. His hand went to the sheets next and tore them off, trying to stuff them in the already full bag.

"Sam, the bag's full," she said, reaching her hand out to stop him from ripping the bag. "Sam... Sam!"

He snapped out of his daze and met her eyes, blinking a few times when he felt everything fall on him in a moment of weakness. He didn't realize he was crying until he was gasping for air, trying to contain his sobs.

"I was just..."

Mercedes patted his head as she knelt beside him, her mouth agape in shock. "It's okay," she silenced him. "Shh. It's okay. You saw me cry in the elevator, remember? It's okay."

"No it's not," his voice cracked. "None of this is okay. I was supposed to be strong. I was... I was supposed to be ..._married_."

"I know."

His eyes were red and puffy as tears fell down his pale cheeks. Sam continued to sob on her shoulder, the lump in his throat growing smaller and smaller with each passing second. "Why," he kept asking, over and over until he sounded like a broken record. It was the same question he had that would never be answered. Why did she cheat on him? Why wasn't he enough? Why didnt they last?

"I dont know... I cant answer that. No one really can. She's wrong for what she did to you but you cant let it ruin your life. There's someone out there for you. Someone who will love you and treat you with decency. And I know you thought it was Darcy but it's not her." Mercedes broke the hug, glancing down at Sam's still bleeding hand. "I know you dont want to, but we have to clean that up, okay?"

He nodded, letting her take him to the bathroom and clean out his wound. Once the band-aid was secure over it, she patted his arm gently, and gave him a small smile.

"There you go. All good."

"Thank you," he said, his voice coming back to normal. His eyes were still red, that much he could see from the glance he stole in the mirror. He felt guilty for unloading on Mercedes and for her walking in on him at the lowest he'd ever been.

"You're welcome," she smiled. "Consider this my version of a handkerchief."

He chuckled, clearing his throat and walking out of the bathroom. Sam looked around, gulping when he saw just how big of a mess he'd made. "Shit."

"You don't have to clean all this up right now, you know," she said with a smile.

Sam looked down at her and smiled gently. "Good. Because I wasn't going to."

* * *

**A/N: So... why is this so long? Lol honestly it was supposed to be longer but I took the second half of this and put it into chapter 7. Didnt I say there would be a lot of fluff in my last A/N? Yea, I totally lied. Sam reached his breaking point and ugh, it was so angsty to write but I told you guys minimum angst and this is pretty much as angsty as it's going to get. There's going to be more angst but nothing as sad as this, I promise. I know some of you were looking forward to the lounge conversations between everyone but like I said, I wanna get this story on the road, but I promise, there'll be deleted scenes at the end of the story. Make sure you all review because I LOOOOVVVVEE that you guys love this story!**


	7. The One With The Mischievous Brother

**Disclaimer: You guys know I dont own it. I know I dont own it. The Creators know I dont own it although I treat their characters way better than they do. **

**Here it is, continuation of Ch. 6!**

* * *

The sun's rays were milky as they melted their way through the bare window. The room lit up with the start of a new day and made Sam wince from the glare that met his eyes. He lifted his head, his entire body stiff and looked down at the strands of chocolate curls that laid over his chest. Mercedes' bangs had fallen into her eyes and her full lips were slightly parted, her light breathing bringing a smile to Sam's face. The soft breathes that escaped her lips tickled his bare chest and yet again, he wished he'd put on a shirt.

They'd somehow fallen into this position after staying up for hours, talking about Darcy. From the break up to little things that Sam started to notice only now that he was out of the relationship. How she was indecisive in nearly every choice she made or how she'd asked on four separate occasions why they were getting married. At the time, Sam had found it endearing, like she just wanted to hear his detail response that always started out with_ "We love each other."_

Sam didn't hold back. He didn't bother to. All he wanted was to let out his frustrations and anger. And Mercedes had listened as he ranted and raved into the wee hours of the morning, giving her own opinion when it was needed and keeping silent when it wasn't. The times when she chose not to be silent, she let him know in no uncertain terms, just what she thought of Darcy. And then she let him know just what she thought he'd done wrong. He wasn't expecting it but as she told him, he realized she was right. He was blinded by his love for Darcy; completely excusing the signs that were so obvious to anyone with eyes. And after it dawned on him that he had a part to play in the demise of their relationship, even though it was all Darcy's doing, he asked why he hadn't seen it sooner that he and Darcy were almost doomed from the start. From the first time they met, to the day he proposed. He was always in it 100% while Darcy always stood on shaky ground.

"Sometimes, it takes us all a minute to realize things that are pretty damn obvious to everyone else."

That was her only response to his question. It was so much different when it came out of her mouth. With everyone else, it was generic; a knee jerk reaction. With Mercedes, she'd meant every word she'd said.

Sam vaguely remembered, yawning and complaining about being tired of _everything _before falling into one of the best sleeps he'd had since Darcy had left, even without any sheets or pillows on the bed.

His eyes drifted back to Mercedes' sleeping form as she took heavy breath.

"You're staring kinda hard there, buddy," she said, her expression not changing and her eyes not opening.

"How can you tell?" he asked with a smirk.

"I can feel your eyes." She sat up out of his arms and rubbed at her tired eyes before yawing. "What time is it?"

"10:15."

She ran a hand over her head and groaned. "Damn, I have to be at work in an hour. Did I fall asleep on you?"

"Yeah," he nodded, sitting up as well and rubbing at the red spot on his chest.

"I remember you falling asleep and me not wanting to leave so I stayed. I'm gonna consider this the next step in our friendship, though. Good thing you're not my type."

"I'm not?" he asked with a smirk.

"Nope," Mercedes shook her head. "Because if you were, this would be really awkward."

That was what surprised him most of all. It wasn't awkward to have her fall asleep in his arms. It should be but he was so comfortable with her, it wasn't.

"Good thing," he nodded, getting off the bed. He stood, taking in his surroundings once more and frowned. "Listen... About last night."

"Dont," Mercedes stopped him, kicking a pillow to the side to stand on solid footing. "It's okay. You needed to freak out a little. I don't blame you. And I'd offer to stay and help clean but I've gotta get to Joe's or else I get a tongue lashing from my manager."

"It's okay. I wouldn't ask you to help clean this up."

"You wouldn't have to ask," she said. "I'm your friend. I'd do it."

"Thanks... For everything."

"You already said that," she smiled before stepping over a few things to get to the door. "If you ever wanna talk, you know I'm just across the hall."

"I know," Sam nodded, giving her a small smile. "Tha-"

She stopped him with a shake of her head. "I know. You're welcome. See you later. Oh and when I come by next time, maybe try not to destroy your apartment."

Sam chuckled and crossed his arms over his exposed chest. "Deal."

Sam waited until he heard the click of his front door being shut before he looked around his messy room. He tackled this area first, tying up his over stuffed trash bag with pillows and cleaning up the glass. Once he was finished, he realized he needed to get new curtains and sheets. He wondered if Mercedes had good taste in things like that. If it were up to him, he'd just end up buying whatever looked good instead of what fit right.

After spending hours cleaning, rearranging and taking several trips to the garbage chute, Sam finally managed to drag his tired body into the shower. He let the water run over his aching muscles and hopefully wash away the sadness that was plaguing him. He blindly reached for shampoo and frowned when his hand met none. He mentally reminded himself to add shampoo to the list of things he'd have to buy for the house.

Sam didn't realize just how much he depended on Darcy for household items. Sure, he bought the groceries but the rest was completely up to her. The decorating, the toiletries, even his deodorant.

He was completely dependent on her.

But now she was gone and he was going to depend on himself. He was determined to do so.

After getting dressed, he spent the rest of his Sunday walking around Central Park, taking pictures of small things he found interesting. From the brave pigeon that decided to take on a squirrel for the last of a container of fries, to a woman with wild red hair, flying her kite high above the sky.

She looked so care free and even though Sam couldn't see her face fully, he knew she was smiling.

He lifted his lens to capture a picture of her but was met instead with the sunglasses covered face of his younger brother, along with his signature smirk.

That smirk was something Sam had first seen when he was only seven. Stevie was four, and his mother refused to give him a treat. He'd begged and cried and wailed until finally, just for some peace and quiet, Mary handed over the crème filled chocolate cookie to Stevie. The smirk came out mere seconds later as he bit into it, looking directly at his older sibling. That was when Sam knew his younger brother was going to be a mischievous young man. And he'd lived up to it.

"Hey there Sammy."

Sam lowered his camera and smiled. "Hey. What are you doing here?"

"Me? Looking for my dorky older brother who insists on taking pictures of the weirdos that roam Central Park during the day. You always used to come here when we were kids, remember? Always this same spot. Between those two trees and the bench in front of the steps."

Stevie placed his arm around Sam's shoulder and walked forward with him, nodding his head to one of the female joggers as they ran past him. His eyes followed her until she was fully out of sight.

Sam raised his camera and snapped a picture of Stevie's face as soon as he'd turned around.

"I think I'm going to save that one and post it around the city telling women to beware," he joked.

Stevie scoffed, lifting his glasses to rest atop his head. "Whatever... Speaking of women. Mercedes-"

"You're not getting her number," Sam cut him off, giving him a warning glare. His brother was a persistent one, and he knew that just saying _no_ wasn't going to get him to stop. It never did. Not when they were kids and definitely not now while they were adults.

Stevie frowned. "Oh come on Sam. I just wanna get to know her."

"You don't get to know women Stevie, you sleep with them and then dump them. You treat them all like shit."

"Oh right because monogamy works_ so _well," he said sarcastically. "Look, I only have a little fun if they want to have a little fun with me too. I let them know before hand that a relationship is not what I'm looking for. All I'm asking for is her number. Let her choose if she wants to keep me around or not."

Sam shook his head, determined to say no. He knew Stevie better than Stevie knew Stevie. And he knew that if he gave him Mercedes' number, two things were bound to happen. She'd end up sad or angry and either way, Sam was going to lose a friend. His reasoning wasn't completely selfish but a piece of him just wanted to keep Mercedes exclusively to himself.

"No," he finally shook his head, lifting his camera to take a picture of the sky. Just as his finger got ready to press the button, Stevie pushed the camera down and away from his face.

"Dont cock-block me, Sam."

"Treat women better and I wouldn't have to."

Stevie rose an eyebrow, his signature smirk forming on his lips. "_Ohhh_... I see what this is about. You like her don't you?"

Sam immediately shook his head. The idea was ridiculous. Of course he didn't like Mercedes. He cared about her. She had become a fast friend and a kindred spirit but as far as romantic feelings went, he didn't have them. Not for her. Not for anyone.

"No, I don't like her but..." Sam stopped walking and faced his brother. "I have you and Puck and Mike. That's it. I don't have Darcy. I don't have any woman friend. Cedes is it and if you get her number, I know what's gonna happen. You're an extension of me. So no."

He turned on his heels and continued to walk the path, Stevie falling in stride seconds later. He looked at his older brother out of the corner of his eye and huffed.

"Fine, don't give me her number... But you can tell me you don't like her all you want. I don't believe it."

"I don't like her. Not like that anyways. It would complicate things. She's seen me vulnerable and I've seen her vulnerable."

"Yeah but do you wanna see her naked?" Stevie asked with raised eyebrows.

"No," Sam answered gruffly.

He would never. The thought never crossed his mind. Not once.

Maybe once.

But he instantly killed it when it came up.

Stevie groaned dramatically, running his hand through his blond locks. "Do you always have to be such a damn saint. You realize you're kinda boring."

Sam rolled his eyes. "I'm not boring."

"You are too. You never get too drunk. You never have random hook ups. You're the serial monogamist. Remember that time at my college graduation when Trent pulled out that bag of weed. You didn't even take part. Even Mike joined in."

"I just never felt the need to smoke marijuana."

"_'I just never felt the need to smoke marijuana_'," Stevie imitated Sam's voice. "Who says that? Live a little big bro. You're free now. No ball and chain. No wife to tell you no and no girlfriend to give her stinking comments on whatever you do. Live. Singlehood is a glorious thing." Saying that, he popped his sunglasses back on his face and clapped his hand over his brother's back.

"Where are you going?" Sam questioned as Stevie turned around.

"Me? I'm going to find that jogger I saw a few minutes ago. Did you see her rack?" Stevie grinned, puckering his lips.

Sam shook his head and nodded towards Stevie. "You need help."

"Maybe I do," Stevie shrugged. "Maybe Mercedes can sing to me until I'm cured."

That was Sam's cue to end their conversation. He turned around and continued to walk down the trail, waving his hand in the air when Stevie shouted a quick _'love you' _as they parted ways.

* * *

**A/N: Here it is! Chapter 7. I'm updating mega fast with this fic and idk why. It has my interest at the moment. So yaaaayyy for that lol. I'm just shocked I still have the passion to write samcedes when I barely ship them anymore. Well, I dont ship canon them. Fanon them is amazeballs! lol. Now, this was supposed to go with last chapter but as you can see, the length would have been monstrous. Not about that life. Gotta cut it up lol. Okay, so I have a quick announcement that's gonna change the direction of the story. *drum rolls* I'm changing the rating to M because I just wrote something yesterday that is delicious and mature and ahhhh. Anyways, it's gonna be good. Stay tuned for that. **

**Okay, so Stevie is just a player right. And that smirk. If any of you watch The Carrie Diaries, you know the smirk I'm talking about that Austin Butler does. It's the most mischievous, thing I've ever seen in my life. Like he's about to take your panties off before you realize it lol But yeah, a few of you were looking like is Steviecedes gonna happen. Never! I couldnt do that because Stevie and Sam have such a good relationship, I wouldnt put Mercedes in the middle of that. Even if Sam doesnt have feelings for her..._yet._ **

**Next chapter preview: (I'm gonna start doing these now because why not?) ****Paying some homage to canon Samcedes when they were good. **

**_"I didnt know you played guitar." _**

**_"I havent in years. Since before I moved in here." _**

**_"Play something?" _**

**_"I cant," he shrugged. "I dont remember."_**


	8. The One Where They Break In

**Disclaimer: Ugh. I dont own it. If I did, I'd do amazing shit with the characters. Yeah. (I also dont own that song that's quoted) **

**Whoa, I dont think I've gotten this big of a response before from any fic I've written. Maybe BFB but still, this is amazeballs guys. Almost 100 reviews and I love that you guys love this story so much when this is all new to me. This is my first Sam-centric fic and I'm thinking I should have done this sooner instead of letting it chill in my documents. **

**Okay, on with the program. **

* * *

If there was one thing Sam hated most about the springtime, it was the rain.

Especially when he had to take the subway to work most days. Like he had to today. He'd left his umbrella at home and was forced to use a few old copies of the newspaper to protect himself from the downpour. It only ended up breaking down into small pieces and sticking into his hair. The rest of the day went downhill from there. His editor in chief cut yet another one of his pieces, he left his cell phone at home, and Rachel kept poking her head into his office periodically all day.

"Hey there," she smiled, sitting atop Sam's desk.

Sam leaned back in his seat and ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the roots. He'd never been able to handle Rachel in large doses, even in high school. She was always too happy, always singing some annoying song and smiling. It was exhausting to watch.

"Hi Rachel," he said, trying not to roll his eyes. "What can I do for you?"

"I think the question is, what can I do for you?"

He looked up at her, trying to ignore her obvious innuendo. "Uh..."

"Oh!" she laughed, flashing her hair over her shoulder. "I didn't mean it like that. I have a boyfriend... I just meant do you want to grab lunch?"

Sam looked between her and his laptop. He had enough work to do without her bothering him. "I can't. I have these pictures to edit for one of Puck- I mean, Noah's pieces. Sorry."

"Oh.. Well that's fine. I'll just bring it to you," she smiled, jumping off the desk and walking towards the door. "You like Chinese?"

Sam sighed heavily. "Rachel, I really don't have time for lunch."

Her face fell and for a split second, he felt bad for being harsh with her. But as soon as that second was up, she was smiling again and getting off his desk. "Maybe some other time then. I really would like to talk though. Especially since I got the Hampton's piece and you're doing the photography."

"You got the Hampton's piece?" he asked incredulously. Mike was going to be devastated. It was the one piece he'd actively gone after and now, Jesse's play thing had taken it from him.

"Yeah," she said, chipper. "So, Jesse said that you and I are going to spend the weekend at one of the hotels. I interview some of the socialites, yada yada. And you get the candid shots at the galas."

Sam shook his head. "You know I don't do party pictures Rach. I do natural, _real_ stuff. Not selfies."

"Oh," she repeated before waving her hand. "Well we'll figure it out when the time comes."

"Right," he pointed. They sat in silence for a few more beats, Rachel still smiling and staring at him. "Well, I've got some work to do so..."

"Oh, of course," she squealed. "Sorry. See you around Sam."

He waved as she left and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to get her ringing voice out of his head.

* * *

Sam was barely in his apartment when the door opened and Mercedes walked in, humming.

"Hey, hey, hey. I come baring gifts," She said, placing a pizza box on the coffee table.

Sam smiled, taking his tie off. How she managed to have the perfect timing, he would never know. Just when he needed a break from not thinking, she came bouncing into his apartment.

"How are you always so sure that my door is open? It could be locked, ya know."

She scoffed, going into his kitchen and pulling out two plates. "Maybe you should give me a key."

"Maybe I should," he said, sitting down on his couch.

"Wow, we fall asleep in bed after a sexless night, and now you want to give me a key? Holy crap, we're married aren't we?"

"Huh, maybe we are. Mrs. Evans, do you mind getting the beers?"

Mercedes crinkled her nose, shaking her head. "I think I'm gonna have to hyphenate, honey," she cooed, opening the fridge to grab two cans of beer. "So how was work? Take any interesting pictures?"

"Not today. I just spent the day editing things. You?"

She sat down and tossed a beer towards Sam. "Nothing out of the ordinary. I got yelled at by Will, my manager, had a customer grab my ass twice, and this jackass forgot to tip me. Or he didn't forget and just didn't think I was particularly nice. Which is probably true."

Sam reached into the pizza box and pulled a slice out. "Why do you work there anyways?"

She shrugged, picking a green pepper off her slice. "Singers gotta eat. I can't just throw myself into performing and forget that I have a car and apartment to pay for."

"You should sell your car," Sam offered. "Who has a car in New York anyways?"

"This girl does," she said, pointing to herself. "What about you... Are you happy with your job?"

Sam shrugged as he chewed. "I guess. I mean, it's a living and I'm doing what I love."

"But you wanna do something else?"

"Not something else but, I don't wanna work at the Gazette forever But I don't plan on changing careers anytime soon."

Mercedes nodded, still picking the peppers off her pizza.

Sam stopped eating and watched her curiously, chuckling when she frowned at the green vegetable. "Why'd you order it on the pizza if you don't like it?"

"I like the flavor it gives the cheese. Shut up," she said flinging the pepper at him.

He ducked with a laugh and opened his beer with a pop.

"I didn't know you played guitar," he heard her say, as she stared at the case in the corner of the living room. He'd found it after all the cleaning and moving he'd done, tucked behind a hideous chest that Darcy always described as 'art deco chic'. He always saw it as the ugly green chest that blocked his window.

"I haven't in years. Since before I moved in here."

"Play something?" she asked, a sparkle in her eye.

"I can't," he shrugged. "I don't remember."

She scoffed dramatically. "Oh please, it must be like riding a bike. Come on."

"It's not that simple."

"Try."

He opened his mouth to decline but met her eyes before nodding. "Fine. But if I butcher the song, don't say anything."

He stood up, grabbing the guitar case and pulled out the dusty guitar. He wasn't even sure he remembered how to play properly but adjusted his hand on the neck of the guitar before strumming his fingers against the strings.

An awful sound rung through his ears and Sam cringed.

"I warned you."

"That you did," Mercedes nodded, rubbing her ears. "But you can do it."

He shrugged and closed his eyes, trying to get a feel for the instrument he hadn't touched in years. The tips of his fingers had softened against the strings and he ignored the burning friction that came with pressing down on the frets. His thumb moved fast against the guitar, until a decent sounding melody filled the apartment. When he opened his eyes, Mercedes was staring at him, her brown eyes sparkling in wonder.

"Wow," she smiled. "You're good. Better than good."

Sam shook his head. She was being too kind. In fact, he thought his playing was way below what he was capable of. "No, it was just _meh_."

She shook her head slowly. "It wasn't _meh_. It was... Amazing. Can I ask you a question though?"

"Sure."

"Why'd you give it up?" she questioned.

He looked around the apartment, reminders of Darcy long gone and shrugged, meeting Mercedes' eyes again. "I don't know. I lost the passion for it, I guess."

"Can you get it back?"

"It's a definite possibility," he chuckled. "Why?"

"Just wondering," she stood, her drink still in her hand. "I might need a band leader, remember?"

"Damn, I almost forgot about that," he joked, staring down at the wooden guitar. If he was being honest, he'd missed it. With Darcy around, he'd forgotten about it. No, it wasn't a dream of his to be a rock star or anything but there was something about the calming, organic sound that came from his guitar that made him feel peaceful. And he hadn't felt that in a while.

Not _true_ peacefulness.

Not until now.

He started to play a song he'd been humming all day and smiled when Mercedes picked up on the words.

"_Tell 'em that it's human nature_," she sang while bobbing her head. "That's a good song."

Sam nodded in agreement. "It's been stuck in my head all day. I think some kid on the train was playing it."

He looked up from his lap and watched her as she closed her eyes and continued to sing along. As if she could feel him staring she broke out into a smile right before she stuck her tongue out at him.

"You're staring again."

"Sorry," he said, looking away. "Can I ask you a question though?"

"Mhm," she hummed.

His playing grew softer while she twirled around the living room. "You and Stevie."

She stopped twirling.

"There's a me and Stevie?" she smirked. "Since when?"

"Since the night at the lounge."

"You realize that was over a month ago and I haven't even seen him much less thought about him. Why? Is he asking about me?"

"No!" Sam said a little too quickly. "I mean, he is but..." How did he tell her that his little brother was a womanizing man whore without bashing his character? "He... Likes women."

"Gasp!" Mercedes exclaimed with a slight chuckle. "I like men. What else can we say that's obvious?"

Sam shook his head. "No, I mean he likes women, _a lot_."

"So he sleeps around?"

"Yeah."

She bit her lip, her head bobbing in acknowledgment. "Why are you telling me this again?"

Sam shrugged and opened his mouth to speak, finding no words came out. "I... I thought you two hit it off at the lounge and that you should know who you're getting involved with."

"Some shameless flirting and you're already trying to hook me up with your brother? Not so fast Evans." She twirled into her seat and adjusted herself. "Stevie's cute and he looks like a lot of fun. But I've had fun. Fun has cheated on me and hurt me a million times over. Now, I kinda want boring. Boring will go food shopping with me and listen to me when I talk about Beyonce and her flawlessness for hours."

Sam cracked a smile and glanced down at his now red fingertips. "So you wont go out with him?"

"No, I wont go out with him. Besides, you're kinda the closest thing I have to a best friend here. Why would I ruin that by dating your brother?"

"You're the closest thing I have to a best friend too," he whispered back, not sure she'd heard him. But she did, evident by the grin on her face.

"I'm glad the feeling is mutual. And you know, best friends would do anything for each other."

"Mhm," he nodded in agreement.

"Like let them sleep on their couch and give them a kidney. Stuff like that."

Sam looked at her skeptically, his eyes narrowing with each passing second. "...Sure."

"Even illegal stuff like break them out of jail or rob a bank with them. Kill a man!"

"I think you and I have two different meanings of the phrase best friends."

"No, it's the same meaning," she nodded with a cheerful smile. She got closer to Sam, leaning over her chair and he instinctively leaned farther away from her.

"Why do I feel like you're going to ask me to kill Matt for you?"

Mercedes scoffed dramatically. "Of course I wouldn't... Unless you want to." She saw the horrified look on his face and knew he'd instantly reconsidered saying she was his best friend. "Sam, I'm kidding."

He breathed out slowly, still looking at her as if she had a third eye. "Oh."

"But I do need your help with something?

"As long as I don't need to wear gloves to commit murder."

"No, no murder," she shook her head. "But those gloves are a good idea. We don't want our fingerprints on anything."

He stared at her for a minute, trying to decide if she was serious or not before gulping loudly. "Yeah, I do _not_ like the sound of that."

* * *

"I can't believe I let you drag me into this," Sam whispered as they ducked under the fence. He'd never done anything like this before. He always followed the rules to a tee, never bending or breaking them. "Do you think they have guard dogs?"

"Relax," Mercedes said back, pulling a bobby pin from her hair to pick the lock that opened the door.

"Since when do you pick locks?" Sam asked, astonished.

Mercedes scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Didnt I tell you I was a wild card?"

The door clicked seconds later and she smiled in victory, standing up and walking through the storage unit. She noticed Sam's hesitance and rolled her eyes. "Come on. Best friends, remember?"

"I'm reconsidering that decision," he said, stepping into the building with her. "Isnt this a felony?"

"Not when it's my stuff," she said, reading the numbers above each unit. "As I recall, you offered to help me break in."

"No I didn't," Sam whispered. "I just gave you the idea."

"Tomato, _tamato,_" she quipped, holding out a pair of wire cutters. "Hold these."

"Why do you own a pair of wire cutters?"

She gave him a blank look, blinking once. "Dont ask questions you don't want the answer to." She used the same bobby pin, focusing on the lock keeping the storage unit shut. "All I want is my lamp. He can have the rest. But he knows that lamp is important to me."

"Have you tried calling him and asking him for your stuff instead of breaking in?"

The glare she sent his way sent shivers down his spine and answered his question better than any verbal response could have.

"I'm gonna shut up and let you do your thing."

"Thank you," she nodded. Her small fingers twisted the pin, hoping to hear the familiar click of it unlocking but instead, all she heard was the constant scraping of the metals touching. "Oh come on."

"Hey!"

They both looked up to see a burley man, staring at them, his brows furrowed in anger.

"How did you get in here?"

Sam was frozen in his spot. In all of his 26 years on earth, he'd never gotten in trouble. Not with his mother. Not with teachers. Not with strangers. No one. And now, he was standing face to face with a security guard he was pretty sure had a gun holstered on his hip.

His green eyes shot to Mercedes for direction. Whatever she did, he was going to do too. If she ran, he ran. If she stayed, he would stay. But he needed her to do something and something now.

"Cedes?" he whispered, as if the guard couldn't see his lips moving.

"Yeah?" she mumbled back.

"What do we do?"

It took her a minute to answer but when she did, Sam wasn't sure he'd heard her right. "Run."

"What?"

It was too late, she was already at the door in a flash of red. Sam looked to the security guard wondering if Mercedes really had just ran out of the storage unit before chasing after her. He wasn't sure if the guard was following them but he ran and ran until the lights of the city street beamed above them. Mercedes paused at a fence and leaned against it, seemingly to catch her breath. But when a low laugh came bubbling out of her, all Sam could do was stare.

Stare at the way her mouth opened half way or the way her shoulders bounced with each giggle. Stare at the way she snorted every few seconds and the way her fingers flexed and stretched as she laughed.

"What's so funny?" he finally asked after watching her for a second too long.

"You... Me... That guard..." She could barely get any of the words out and went right back to cackling. "Your face! Your face was _priceless._"

"It's not funny," Sam said, even though he found himself chuckling right along with her.

"It was."

He ran his tongue over his teeth and nodded before succumbing to his own laughter. "Okay, it kinda was. Thanks for leaving me back there."

"Hey," she pointed, still trying not to laugh. "I told you to run. You should have been right beside me."

He smirked, leaning against the fence with her. "I guess I'm a bit slow on the uptake."

"I guess," she agreed, her eyes locking with his. It was a habit Sam was starting to notice they had. They could say a thousand words, just by looking at each other. Right now, she was thanking him and he was saying just as much. He needed this laugh and adrenaline rush. He'd been feeling better about the break up since he broke down but he hadn't laughed this hard in a while.

Mercedes was the first to break the stare off and eyed her sneakers. "You're kinda boring Sam," she spoke softly.

He knew she didn't mean it in malice and if he was being honest, he could admit that he was boring.

"You're kinda fun Cedes," he replied.

Because she _was_ fun. She was her own brand and flavor of side-splitting, head spinning fun. And for now, Sam needed that in his life.

She looked away, her head nodding in the darkness of the night as she pushed herself from the fence. "Come on," she sighed, bumping shoulders with him. "I'll buy you a cupcake for helping me break into the storage unit."

"Just a cupcake?" he said, giving her a crooked smile.

Mercedes rolled her eyes and playfully hit his arm. "Fine, you get a Pepsi too."

* * *

**A/N: If this is not the cutest most adorable, fluffy thing I've ever written, idk what is. Really, this chapter was not supposed to go down like that. I originally had it that they were going to duet at Diabla's Lounge and get all gooey and adorable but I like the breaking into the storage unit better. Okay, so, some feelings are coming out but I wonder if you guys know which person is feeling the other more? Make your own observations on that. And I gave a HUGE hint if you were paying attention. Oh! And Rachel... Rachel, Rachel, Rachel. :ike I said when I first introduced her, she was going to play a big part. Now, I say that to ask, do you guys think she's a nosy gossip at Sam's job or does she honestly care for him? **

**Didnt I say I was paying homage to canon Samcedes. Yeah. That lil song for half a second is the only thing that's ever going to be parallel with canon in this story.**

**Oh and I just decided to say screw it to myself and make the chapters long. I'm sick of cutting them up. Making them loooonnnggg lol**

**Next time on **_Accidentally In Love**...**_

**_"You're drunk." _**

**_"I'm not," she said, flicking her finger over his nose. _**

**_"You are," he laughed, wrapping an arm around her waist to steady her as they walked to their rooms._**

**_ANNNNNDDDD_**

**_"You couldnt lose me. I promise." _**

**_"Even if I wanted to kiss you right now?"_**

**Make sure you review! They give me life and long reviews are my bread and butter! Seriously I love them. And I love you guys for reading! Alright, I'm leaving to go chill under Pharrell's hat**


	9. The One Where They Go To The Hamptons

**Disclaimer: Dont own the characters. I own this wicked sick idea though. **

***spits out juice* Holy crap! You guys are amaze balls. Seriously. AH-MAHZING! Nearly 30 reviews for one chapter. Sheesh. You guys are seriously awesome. I cant even tell you how happy I am that you like this story. Seriously. I'm like mentally beating myself up for letting it sit in my documents for so long. But it's here now and has all my focus! **

**Okay, on with the show. **

* * *

**May**

"Mike, it's not okay," Sam said as he threw a shirt into his bag. He admired Mike's resiliency but even he could see that there was something wrong about Rachel getting the Hampton's piece when she was nowhere near as good a journalist as Mike was. But he was calm, almost happy to miss out on the best piece of the year.

"It is," Mike replied through the other end of the phone. "Besides, I get the holiday off. Quinn and I are going to see her parents in Michigan. I'm good."

Sam couldn't bring himself to agree with his friend but he nodded, even though Mike couldn't see him, and tossed a container of sunscreen in the bag. "Fine, but what am I going to do with Rachel all weekend? Alone?"

"You're allowed to bring someone along," Mike informed him."Like a certain brown-eyed, gorgeous singer friend of yours whose name also happens to be the name of a luxury car."

Sam put the phone down on his nightstand and tapping the speaker button before realizing who Mike was describing. "No. We're just friends. We can't take a vacation together."

"It's not a vacation. It's Memorial day weekend in the Hampton's with your best friend and free accommodations. Besides, I can't go with you and neither can Puck. His in-laws are in town."

"He hates them."

"Yeah, but Tina wont let him skip out like he did at the last visit. Just ask her man. You know you want to."

He thought about it for a moment, a few shirts drapping in his hand. He was going to need someone to keep him sane after hours of spending time with Rachel. It was a good idea if he was being honest. A brilliant one. But he wasn't sure if he was crossing a friendship line by asking Mercedes to go with him to the Hamptons.

"I dunno," he mumbled aloud.

"You don't know what?"

Sam jumped, hearing Mercedes' voice and turned to look at her, standing in his doorway. He eyed her from the top of her head to the worn sneakers on her feet. She looked beyond tired; as if she was running on less than fumes. She flopped herself onto his bed and groaned, as a few of his shirts fell onto her face.

"Going somewhere?" she asked.

"Who's that?" Mike spoke up. "Is that Mercedes?"

She sat up and rested her head on her hand. "Hi Mike."

"Hey there Cedes. How's it going?" he replied.

She huffed, causing her bangs to float at the sudden whoosh of air. "Besides hating my job. I'm good. How about you?"

Mike chuckled lightly. "I'm great. Actually I was just talking about you to Sam."

"Oh?" she smirked, giving her best friend a look. "What about?"

Sam shook his head, deciding now was the time to jump in. "Uh. Nothing. We were just-"

"Where are you going anyways?" Mercedes asked, tossing the shirts into the bag.

"Hamptons," Sam and Mike answered at the same time.

She nodded and laid back, flat against the bed, breathing out evenly.

"Ask her Sam," Mike somewhat ordered.

Sam frowned at the phone and picked it up, taking it off speaker. "I'll call you back Mike."

"Just ask her. The worst she can say is n-"

Sam hung up before he could finished and threw the phone beside his bag.

"Ask me what?" Mercedes questioned, turning her head lazily to look at him.

"Uh," he started, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Well if you wanted to come with me..."

"Come with you where?"

"To the Hamptons."

She blinked a few times tiredly before sitting up on her elbows. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "My job lets us bring someone and I'm gonna need a distraction so I don't have to spend all my time with Rachel."

"Isnt she that glitter and sunshine girl you were telling me about?" she asked with a small yawn.

Sam turned around to his closet to get a few pairs of pants. "Yeah. I went to high school with her and she's really high-strung. In layman's terms, she's annoy-" His words trailed off when he turned back around only to find Mercedes asleep and cuddling one of his pillows. He smiled softly and walked to the other side of the bed, scooting her forward so she didn't fall off.

"Okay," she whispered, her eyes still closed.

"Okay what?" he said back.

"Okay, I'll go with you to the Hamptons. When do we leave?" Her eyes fluttered open and Sam had to stifle a gasp. He'd never been this close to her before to see just how long her eyelashes were or just how brown here eyes were, almost like iced tea. By the time he realized he was staring, Mercedes was sitting up and rubbing her eyes.

He gulped and stepped back. "Uh, we leave tomorrow. Morning."

"Awesome," she mumbled, giving him a thumbs up and getting off the bed. "I'll see you tomorrow morning then. I'm going to sleep."

"Cedes, wait?" he stopped her. "Did you get a new bed?"

She nodded. "My old one. I got all my furniture back."

"How?" he asked.

She scoffed and shook her head. "You don't wanna know."

The conversation ended with her waving her hand and walking out of his apartment with a soft click of the door.

* * *

Ever since Sam was a child, he'd had a hatred for road trips. The drive was always too long, their old station wagon had no air conditioner, his father had a bad case of road rage and Stevie was always crying about something new. Needless to say, he wasn't looking forward to the drive up to the Hamptons.

He woke up five minutes before his alarm clock and ten minutes before the sun on Friday morning. He showered and dressed in something he hoped looked decent. Barely twenty minutes later, his coffee was in hand, his laptop and camera were secured in his bag and he was waiting for Mercedes. It crossed his mind that she could have forgotten especially since she'd agreed when she was half asleep but the thought disappeared when his door opened.

"Dont you ever lock this thing?" she asked, her sunglasses already on her face. "I could have been a killer."

"A killer who picked my apartment out of all the 600 units?"

"You never know," she shrugged, dragging her suitcase in. "Ready?"

"What's that?" he asked, pointing to the cheetah print luggage.

"My essentials."

"Cedes it's only for two days."

She gave him a face and lifted her glasses off her face. "You obviously underestimate what it takes to make all of this," she said, pointing at herself. "Now, let's go before traffic gets crazy. Wanna take my car?"

Sam froze.

He wanted to say no. He wanted to say hell no.

Her car was a small, rusty Ford Taurus death trap. Freezing in the middle of the road and clanking and chucking with each inch it took. Not to mention, Sam hated driving with Mercedes. He'd rather take a taxi to the most dangerous neighborhood and walk around wearing a suit made of money than drive with her. She had road rage, not unlike his own father, and she loved the gas pedal a little too much.

"Hello?" she said, waving her hand to break his thoughts. "I said do you want to take my car?"

"Nope," he answered quickly. "I rented one. Yesterday. It's an SUV so there's plenty of room."

"Afraid to be in tight quarters with me, Mr. Evans?" she taunted.

He shook his head, not answering and lifted his bag. "Let's go."

Mercedes dragged her own suitcase and sucked her teeth. "Ohhh. Avoidance."

The drive to the Hamptons wasn't as unbearable as Sam thought it would be. It was still strenuous and tiring and he was going to need a nap when they got to the hotel rooms but it didn't compare to the nightmare road trips he'd experienced with his family. A majority of the ride was spent listening to music or purposefully singing along off key, the off key more on Sam's part than Mercedes'.

"If I keep messing around and singing bad, my voice might get stuck like that," she laughed, looking out the window.

"Never," Sam shook his head. "I think it's physically impossible for you to sing bad."

"You give me too much credit. But thank you," she grinned, choosing instead to hum along to the song.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Go for it."

Sam bit the inside of his cheek and changed lanes as smoothly as he could. "You said you got your furniture back but that I didn't want to know how."

Mercedes nodded and started to nibble on her nail. "Uh, yeah. I took your advice."

"What advice?"

"When we were at the storage unit a few weeks back and you said I should just call Matt. I called him. We talked for like two hours about what happened."

"Aaaand?" he urged her to continue.

"_Aaaand_... He got me back my furniture," she answered. Sam glanced at her out of the side of his eye and frowned. She wasn't a simple answer person. She always gave details upon details and made everything seem robust and right in front of you.

"That's it?"

She sighed before meeting his eyes. "He asked me to give him a second chance and I said no. I couldn't go back to a cheater. Even if he never did it again, there would still be this dark cloud floating over our relationship and I'd always be wondering if he was going to do it again. I can't go back to that. Not when I'm happy," she shrugged. "I'm actually happy and it's not because of some superficial guy is trying to win me over."

Sam didn't know how, but he could understand. He'd never been cheated on besides Darcy but he understood not being able to openly go back to someone who'd betrayed your trust. He knew Darcy was never going to come back to him. In fact, he'd accepted it. But if she ever did, he wasn't sure he'd have the strength to do what Mercedes did to Matt.

"I'm proud of you," he said honestly.

"Thank Sam," she grinned. "So what exactly are you doing this weekend?"

"Tonight is a free night but Saturday evening there's an annual charity event that the paper wants me to get a few shots at. And Sunday afternoon there's a brunch but I'm gonna skip that and get shots of the locals. On the beach, things like that."

"You rebel," she smirked, pinching his cheeks.

He smiled crookedly, which only made her pinch harder and got off the exit for The Hamptons.

* * *

Their hotel was right off the beach, so close that their patio was sprinkled with sand. The Gazette had spared no expense. It was luxurious with all the essentials. A garden tub, gorgeous view of the beach, large sitting area with chic couch. The only problem that Sam had with the hotel room was the large king size bed, staring him in the face. He knew he was going to have to share a room with Mercedes but he thought he'd requested a double when he'd called earlier. Obviously his request had fallen on deaf ears.

"It's okay," Mercedes shrugged. "It's not like we've never shared a bed before."

"That was on accident," he said, still worried.

"Well then. This can be on purpose. It's a huge bed Sam. And we're friends. No awkwardness, remember?"

He nodded and placed his bag by the closet door. "Right." He said it nonchalantly but he was starting to get the feeling that is was going to be a little more than awkward. "I'm gonna go unpack before-"

He was cut off by the persistent light knocking at his hotel door. He glanced at Mercedes who was just as surprised as him before walking to answer the door.

Sam was greeted with a squeal and a hug. "Eee! You're here. And we're across the hall from each other. Isnt that just funny?" Rachel giggled, releasing Sam from her oddly tight hug.

"Heh, yeah," he mumbled, running a hand atop his head.

"We are going to have so. Much. Fun," she grinned. "Tonight, we're going to this club I found in the directory. You're going to- Oh hi there!"

Mercedes waved and extended her hand to shake Rachel's. "Hi. You must be Rachel. I've heard a lot about you."

Rachel's eyes scanned over Mercedes before she smiled, approvingly to Sam. "Nice to meet you too. Although I haven't heard much about you."

"I'm Mercedes."

"Oh!" Rachel squeaked. "What a unique name."

"See, I told you it wasnt plain," Mercedes smiled, bumping shoulders with Sam.

Rachel looked between the two, brightening at the small smile that Sam was fighting. "I had no idea you were bringing your girlfriend."

"She's not my girlfriend," he answered quickly,.

"I'm not his girlfriend," Mercedes said at the same time.

"Oh. I'm sorry," Rachel said. "I just assumed."

Sam shook his head. He knew what she assumed and he knew before the end of the day, everyone at the office was going to know about Mercedes. Maybe if he was really unlucky, she'd tell Marley who would tell Darcy.

Maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing

"Nope, we're just friends. Did you bring anyone along?"

She smiled brightly and pointed across the hall to her hotel room. "Lucas is unpacking now."

"Lucas?" Sam asked aloud. He'd never heard one single mention of anyone named Lucas. He was half expecting Jesse to be here with her but Lucas?

"My boyfriend," Rachel grinned. "It's kind of a get away for us anyways. He hates that I have to work most of the time but, he'll get over it."

"Dont they always," Mercedes joked.

Sam shot her a look of confusion. Was she really joking around with Rachel of all people? It was like his two worlds had crashed together in the most uncomfortable way possible.

"So tell me about this club you mentioned earlier," she continued.

Rachel went on for the next few minutes, explaining the trendy club that she'd seen in the directory on the way there. The more she spoke, the bigger headache Sam could tell he was going to have. By the time Rachel had finished and left the doorway, he was still standing in shock that Mercedes had actually agreed that they'd go.

"What was that?" he asked, baffled.

"We're going out I guess," she shrugged, shutting the door and pulling her glasses off her head. She could feel Sam's glare and spun around, facing him. "She's nice."

"Another word you and I have different definitions for."

"Nope, same definition. Come on Sam, it'll be fun. Besides, you might meet a hottie and fall in love after dancing all night," she smirked doing a small dance into the bathroom.

"I hate you," Sam grumbled as she shut the door.

"You love me. Dont lie!"

* * *

**A/N: Happy Clearance Chocolate Day guys! Okay I know I said I wasnt cutting up the chapters anymore. But I had to cut this one. It was becoming a 5000 word one and I like long but that's hella long. lol. There wasnt too much that happened in this chapter. Matt and Mercedes talked. I might put that in an outtake. Mercedes met Rachel. They like each other apparently. I've always been fascinated by their friendship on the show and I think show writers missed out SOOOO much on them. Besides those few episodes where they were feuding, there was barely any interaction. I think they could have been real best friends because every girl has that best friend that you compete with for everything. It's healthy. Anyways, yeah. I had a few guesses last chapter about Rachel's ulterior motives. They'll be clear next chapter if she has them or not. It might surprise you. **

**Oh. I had someone ask for samcedes to just hook up already. In due time young grasshopper. In due time. (did I just drop a hint. Me thinks I did) **

**So, next chapter will be updated tonight or early tomorrow morning at a time when no sane person should be awake. I hope you guys liked this. I know the previews last chapter are nowhere to be found in this chapter. But next chapter (like I said, had to cut it up like Hannibal Lector... you see what insomnia does to me?) so the preview goes for next chapter. **

**Make sure you review! Because I love them and they make me smile and squeal like Rachel. :) **

**In the meantime, may you stay flawless like Queens Bey and Lupita. Until next time :)**


	10. The One Where The Club Hits Them

**Sooooooooooooo... let's just pretend this was posted three days ago like I said it would be and that I didnt lose my USB drive and end up finding it in my cat's bed. Yeah... let's_ pretend_. **

* * *

_**"My friends have a name for my dancing its called "What are you doing, are you okay?" -Girl Code**_

The music was deafening, the bright, colorful lights were blinding and Sam had already gone over his usual two beer limit.

He could barely hear himself think much less what Rachel was going on and on about. He tried to tell her just that much but she shrugged and moved to the stool next to him as Lucas and Mercedes danced wildly to the salsa music. They'd been out there for the majority of the time dancing with one another while Sam and Rachel watched them from their seats.

Lucas was nice. There was no other word Sam could think of that fit him besides nice. He was extraordinary, the way Sam thought Rachel would have picked but he was calm and friendly. In simple words, he was nice. He and Rachel together seemed so wrong but at the same time, they made perfect sense. It couldn't be explained into words but they complimented each other perfectly.

Sam tried to ignore the small splinter of jealousy that settled in his chest.

He didn't want Rachel in any way, shape, or form. He didn't even want to be her friend but he wanted what she had. That partner that fit so perfectly with him that it made no sense but perfect sense at the same time. Was he ready to move on? He couldn't answer that now. But right now, in this moment, Darcy seemed like a far away dream he'd had long ago.

He lifted his bottle to his lips and watched Lucas spin Mercedes, making her laugh. She had the best laugh, he noted. Melodic and full and always brought a smile to his face even when he'd forgotten the last time he'd smiled.

"I like her," Rachel shouted over the music, making Sam wince.

"Yeah," he nodded, his eyes never leaving Mercedes and Lucas as they dipped and twisted around each other. "She's a great friend."

"Just a friend?"

"Yes," he said, giving her a look. He knew exactly what she was implying and yet again, he felt the need to clarify. The last thing he wanted was to be apart of next week's office gossip pool.

"Well you're a great friend for inviting her to the Hamptons with you," Rachel nodded, as if she didn't believe him. "And for the record if you were ever going to move on from Darcy, you made the right choice."

"Rachel," he warned, looking directly at her. "It's not like that. We're just friends. _That's it_."

"Fine." Sam closed his eyes knowing there was more to what she was about to say. There was always more. Rachel wasn't just a one word answer type of girl. She'd go on and on, barely pausing in between to catch her breath. Or in this case, to drink her martini. "What's stopping you from making it more?"

There it was. He was expecting it and barely 15 seconds later, she'd done just what he knew she would. She pressed her nose farther into his business, probably to share around the office next Monday.

"What's stopping you from being here with Jesse?" he shot back.

Rachel jumped back, as if she'd been slapped and shook her head. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Sam shook his head. Alcohol always made him bolder, even if it was just a few beers, and he was definitely bold with his next comment. "Oh come on Rachel, everyone knows you and Jesse are sleeping together."

She gasped, and stood to her feet. "I may be a lot of things Sam Evans but I am _not_ sleeping with Jesse. There was one time at an office party where something almost happened after many glasses of champagne but that's it." She swiped a tear out from under her eye. "Is that what everyone thinks? That I'm sleeping with Jesse?"

He nodded, feeling the instant pang of guilt. "That's why everyone thinks you get all the good spots in the paper. Why you got the Hamptons piece in the first place."

"I got the piece because I was the only one who fought for it."

"What about Mike?" Sam challenged. "He wanted it."

"Mike pulled out at the last-minute. It would have gone to him but he turned it down because he got offered a job at the New York Times."

Sam stiffened, staring at her. "What?"

His first instinct was to not believe her. If something that big had happened to Mike, he would have told him. Rachel couldnt possible be telling the truth. But deep down, Sam knew Rachel wasnt a liar. She was a gossip and nosy but she was in no way a liar.

"He didn't tell you? He told me to go for this piece because he got offered a job and he needed the time to focus on his decision. I can't believe you'd actually think I'd sleep with Jesse to get a piece."

Sam was shocked. Had he actually listened to all the office chit chat he'd normally ignore? He was no better than the water cooler gossips that talked about him after his break up.

"I guess I just assumed."

"Well you assumed wrong. Do you really think that low of me? That I'm good to get this piece on my own? I know I'm a bit hyper and excitable but I work hard at the Gazette."

Sam felt the guilt continued to etch away at him and nodded. "I know you do. I'm sorry."

Rachel sat back down and tucked hair behind her ear. "It's okay. Look Sam, I know you don't like me very much."

"What?" he scoffed. He knew he was transparent with his disdain towards her but he didnt think he was that obvious.

She gave him a look. "Yes. I know. But... I care about you. I've known you since I was 15 and I was serious when I told you I was here for you. No ulterior motives. Just looking out for a friend."

Sam placed a hand on her shoulder, as if to tell her he accepted her sincerity. "Thank you."

Lucas and Mercedes walked over, both out of breath and both covered in glitter, as the song changed.

"Some guy got us," Lucas laughed, brushing the sparkling dust out of his light brown locks. He took Mercedes' hand in his and placed a kiss to her knuckles. "M'lady. It was a pleasure cutting a rug with you. But now I've got to pull my beautiful girlfriend onto the dance floor and show her how we do it in Ohio."

Rachel giggled and placed her empty glass down before Lucas led her to the dance floor.

Mercedes sat on the stool Rachel recently vacated and ordered a drink. "Hey there good-looking. Can I get you a drink?" she joked, tapping Sam's leg with the tip of her shoe.

He smiled half heartily and peeled the label off his beer.

"Hey," she said, leaning forward. "What's wrong?"

"Mike got offered a job at the Times and he didn't tell me," he said softly.

Mercedes looked at him and sighed. "Oh...I'm sure he had a reason why he didnt tell you."

"Yeah," he nodded. "But it's big. The Times are a journalists' dream. You get to travel outside of New York and see things and write about things you never imagined."

"Is that what you want?" she asked, stabbing the olive in her freshly made drink and bringing it to her lips.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean is there a part of you that's a little jealous?"

He thought about it. He didn't feel jealous. Or maybe he just didn't _want_ to feel jealous. He was happy for Mike, at least a part of him was.

"Maybe. But I think I'm more surprised he didn't tell me. It's his dream and it's staring him in the face and he didn't tell me. I was wondering why he seemed almost okay with losing this piece."

Mercedes took a sip of her glass and licked her lips. "Maybe he doesn't want to jinx it by telling anyone." She placed a hand on his knee, forcing him to look at her. "You can't beat yourself up over his choice to not tell you about the job."

Sam nodded, and stared down at her hand still on his knee. "You're right."

"I know I am," she winked, pulling her hand away. "Come on."

"Where are we going?" he asked as she pulled him up from his stool.

"You're joking right? I look good and we're in a dance club and you're asking me where we're going?" she laughed, taking his hand in hers and guiding him to the center of the dance floor.

Sam started to mumble something like, _"I cant dance."_ To which Mercedes scoffed and shook her head. He should have corrected himself when she forced him to come out here. It wasn't as much that he couldn't dance, it was that he didn't.

He was never coördinated enough for it or smooth enough to pull off some of the dance moves he'd seen others do. He always end up resorting to his standbys of the running man or the sprinkler. Or even worse, his old faithful.

The robot.

A fast Latin beat blared around them and Sam looked around awkwardly as everyone else moved in their own unique way. Lucas and Rachel were practically grinding on each other, not unlike some of the other couples. The rest were dancing like pros, flipping and twirling around like they were on stage.

He looked down at Mercedes who was in her own world, singing along to the song and dancing around in front of him.

"Oh, redhead to your left is checking you out," she said, turning to face him.

Sam glanced over his shoulder, looking at a woman whose eyes never left his. His cheeks grew warm at the sudden attention and looked back at Mercedes. "What do I do?"

"Go talk to her," she said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world

"Now?" he shouted over the music.

Mercedes waved her hand and shook her hand. "Okay, now isn't a good time. But go dance with her. And before you say you can't, just bob your head or something and when she dances on you, which she will, just put your hands on her hips and move along."

He looked at her, still confused. "Dance on me?"

"Yeah, you know like that," she explained, pointing around at the other couples that were doing just that. "Dont tell me you've never danced like that before."

He shook his head.

Whenever he and Darcy did go out dancing, he'd watch from their booth or table as she jumped around and waved at him, thrashing her hair around over and over again. If he even attempted to hold her the way some of these guys were holding their partners, he would have gotten a mouth full of hair.

He shrugged, looking down at Mercedes who quickly waved a disapproving finger before grabbing his hands and putting them on her hips. He gasped at the sudden contact and stared at her, willing himself not to blink. His hands were on fire and if they weren't, they surely felt like they were.

"Okay, so you feel the way my hips are moving, right?"

How did he even answer that question? He could feel the swivel of her hips in his ears if he was being honest. Had it been that long since he'd touched a woman, that just the brushing of his fingertips against the small of her back was making his face burn. Thank god the room was dark, or he was sure everyone would see just how red his cheeks had become.

"Good," she continued, stepping closer to him. She slipped one of his hands up her body and took it in her own. "Okay, now guide me."

He tried his best to follow her instructions and glanced down at their now moving feet.

"My eyes are up here," she scolded with a small laugh. "You can't dance with her and stare at her feet the entire time."

Sam chuckled, getting the hang of the dance. "Yeah, but what if she has beautiful feet?"

"Marry her," she quipped. "It's a known fact that women with beautiful feet make excellent wives. They're like mirrors to the soul or something."

"And how do your feet look?" he asked with a smirk.

"_Fantastic_," she said enthusiastically. "I bet redhead's feet look great too."

He spun her around instead of answering and dipped her, smiling brightly while she giggled.

"Well look who's a natural."

He opened his mouth to speak but found no words came out. Why did it still shock him that she was this much fun to be around? Or that she was this beautiful? Or that her smile was so infectious and wonderful that it could instantly bring a matching one to his own lips. If he'd met her before Darcy, he surely would have pursued her. That thought surprised him. He'd never had one like it. Sure, he'd considered if they were more than friends but he'd always pushed those away. Anything more than what they had now, wouldn't last. They were both still healing from their past hurts, him more than her it seemed. And if it didn't work, he would have lost a friend, something he couldn't deal with after losing so much already.

"Sam, the music stopped," she whispered, searching his eyes as he searched hers.

"Right," he mumbled, pulling her back up to stand up straight. "Sorry."

"Dont worry about it," she said, stepping away and brushing her hair out of her face. "I think your redhead's getting away."

Sam looked over his shoulder and sure enough the woman was walking away with her crowd of friends to a booth.

"Send her a drink," Mercedes suggested.

"I'd rather buy you one," he said instead.

She patted his arm gently and smiled. "Alright but I'm warning you, I'm a cheap drunk."

He followed her off the dance floor and shrugged. "I'll take my chances."

* * *

"You're drunk."

"I'm not," Mercedes said, flicking her finger over his nose.

"You are," Sam laughed, wrapping an arm around her waist to steady her as they walked to their room. Lucas was carrying a mumbling Rachel a few steps behind them, chuckling as she went on and on about the one time she'd met Barbara Streisand.

"I know sweetie, I was there," Lucas smiled, shaking his head when they reached their room. Rachel reached over Lucas and hit Sam's shoulder.

"Hey.. You take care of her, okay. Make sure she always knows you think she's pretty," she said drunkenly. "And... And tell her that you think she's the most perfectest person every born. Mercedes!"

"Yeah," the other woman groaned.

"I love you. Okay. We're going to be best friends forever, alright."

"Best friends," Mercedes repeated, leaning into Sam's shoulder and grinning.

Lucas opened their hotel room door and turned Rachel away. "Okay babe, tell Mercedes and Sam goodnight."

"Goodnight," Rachel waved before disappearing into her room.

Sam waved and led Mercedes into their own room.

"I like her," she said. "She's coooool."

Sam nodded, guiding her through the dark. "I know, you told me before, remember."

"I did? Well it had to be said twice," she sang, holding up two fingers. She closed her eyes and groaned loudly. "Stop spinning me."

"I'm not."

"Oh... Well I'm pretty sure I'm gonna pass out soon so you should probably hold out your arms to catch me."

Sam caught her just in time and picked her up, bridal style, kicking the door closed with his foot. She moaned loudly when she was placed on the soft bed, and looked up at him with half-open eyes.

"Hey Sam?"

"Yeah?" he said, pulling his arms out from under her and bending down to take her heels off. He'd have to ask her when she was sober how she managed to walk in them. They looked like murder weapons.

"I lied.."

"About what?" he asked, tossing the shoes to the side.

"About you not being my type. Remember when I said you weren't? I lied. You are my type. You're too much like my type in fact. You're nice and sweet and kinda funny but that's how you get me to fall in love with you. And that's when I lose you... I don't wanna lose you."

"You couldn't lose me. I promise," he reassured her, reaching over to stroke her hair down.

"Even if I wanted to kiss you right now?" she asked with a sad smile.

Sam stared down at her with serious eyes. He'd thought about it once or twice. But he knew it would ruin their friendship and it was the only relationship with a woman he valued besides the one with his mother. "Cedes-"

"Shh," she silenced him, dropping her head to the pillow.

He watched her for a few seconds as her breathing calmed and stood up to move but she caught his hand.

"Wait... I wanna sing to you. Can I sing to you?" He went to tell her she needed rest but she cut him off yet again. _"Looooovvviiinn yooooouuuuu! Is easy cuz you're booooooooootiful_-"

Sam tried his hardest not to laugh because even when she was drunk, she still sounded amazing. "Okay, Cedes. You need to get some sleep."

"Wait, wait. Lemme do get a do over. And _IIIIIIIIIIIeeeIIIII will allllllwwwwwaayys love_... I think I'm gonna throw up... Wait. I lied."

By the time she'd swallowed what was bubbling in her throat, Sam had already placed a small kiss on her forehead and brought over a waste bin next to the bed. He kicked off his own shoes and unbuttoned his shirt, flopping down on the couch instead of on the bed beside her.

"Goodnight Cedes."

"Night Sam," she waved her hand in the dark before lazily bringing it to her side and falling asleep.

* * *

**A/N: Here it is! The club scene. Yes and Amen, samcedes was dancing and I was feeling it. lol. I actually had to edit it after I found my usb drive because it turned into this realy sexy stare off thing and I wasnt sure they were ready for that. Not yet. But soon. Trust me. Still building the friendship. So that preview from two chapters ago was here and those of you who were thinking it was Rachel saying it, breathe easy. It wasnt Rachel. She was too drunk lol. And Drunk Cedes was so much fun to write. Singing and declaring her love for Rachel and Sam. Loved it. Next chapter they're still in the Hamptons and things get..._ tender_. *Barry White voice* yeeahhhh. No but I'm trying to convey the attraction that's coming from the both of them. They're both trying to fight it and you just got Mercedes' reason, because she doesnt want to lose Sam and Sam's reason is the same. But right now, they know they enjoy being around each other. I wonder what happens when the sexual tension gets thrown in there. And trust me, it will get thrown in there and it's going to be soooo much fun to write lol. I already have a chapter written for July and oh boy. You guys are gonna love me. lol **

**Next Time on**_ Accidentally In Love_**...**

**"Hey there drunky. How're you feeling." **

**"Do you have to yell?" **

_**ANNNDDDD**_

**"I wanna be old and wrinkly with gray hair and still have my husband wanna kiss me." **

**"You'll find it." **

**"Ya think? Because right now, I'm leaning towards being the crazy old lady with a bunch of cats."**

**Have I mentioned how amazing you guys are for reviewing and letting me know how much you love this story? I'm still shocked. Just when I think I should give samcedes up, you all prove me wrong. Make sure you review and let me know what you thought of this chapter. I also wanna know who you guys think is going to make the first move. It'll surprise you, trust me. But I love theories and all that jazz. Send 'em my way :) Oh, oh and for those of you following my other samcedes story uh.. see... what had happened was *hide behinds laptop* literally it's sitting in my documents and need like 5 more words but I'm hitting a wall because THIS fic is running through my mind. I'll update soon though. Maybe. No promises. **

**Toodles for now (toodles?! Damn insomnia making me seem crazy) **


	11. The One Where Everything Changes

**Disclaimer: I dont own these characters. Well I own Lucas and Darcy but everyone else isnt mine.**

* * *

"_Ugh_."

Sam heard the groan before he saw her. He was seated on the patio, his hands busy at work on his uncooperative camera as two cups of hot coffee sat in the middle of the table, both untouched. He looked up, seeing Mercedes stumble towards him, her hair messy and her eyes red. Typical signs of a hang over. He felt bad for her. He could remember his last hangover from two and half years ago. Death was the simplest way he could put it. The upset stomach. The headache. The dry mouth. The inability to keep any food or drink down.

Death. Pure Death.

And he had Stevie and Puck to thank for it. It was always those two. Always teaming up to get Sam and Mike to do something they wouldn't normally do in their right minds.

Sam felt his stomach drop at the thought. Mike. His best friend. The first one he called when Darcy said she'd marry him and the first one he'd called when she said she couldn't. The guy who rescued him from the perils of a new job and showed him that everyone at the Gazette wasn't a nut case. And the same guy who'd kept a huge secret like a job offer to himself. .

Sam sighed slowly, shaking the thoughts off.

"Hey there drunky," he said, smiling sadly. "How're you feeling."

She raised a hand to silence him while her other hand went to her head, her fingers rubbing at her temples while she grimaced and sat in the seat across from him. "Do you have to yell," she whispered, opening her eyes and shutting them quickly. "Sunlight. Burns."

"Here," he said, sliding a cup of coffee over to her. "Drink that."

She opened one eye and nodded, picking up the coffee from the glass table.

"Thanks. It feels like someone ran me over with a truck and then played Korn for like an hour after."

"What's wrong with Korn?" he chuckled.

"What _isn't_ wrong with Korn," she said before groaning. "Why'd you let me drink so much last night?"

Sam chuckled lightly, finally snapping the cartridge into the camera. _"Drinking"_ wasn't the term he'd use for what Mercedes had done the night before. Drinking required more than two drinks, which she hadnt had. She'd polished off her martini and ordered a beer just to have in her hand. When she'd finally finished it, she was already slurring and by the time she'd reached to steal a few sips from Sam's beer, she was completely out of it, singing off-key with Rachel.

"Cedes, you had a martini and a beer and a half. One of which was mine. You didn't drink that much," he laughed.

She eyed him for a moment before joining in. She winced, silencing her laughter. "Stop making me laugh. It hurts. I told you I was a cheap drunk. I can't hold my liquor. I never could."

"Good to know."

"Are you going to try to get me drunk and take advantage of me?" she smirked, her voice still groggy.

"Not while you're drunk," he replied quickly, placing the strap on his camera.

Mercedes winked at his quickness and took another gulp of her coffee. "I didn't say or do anything crazy last night, did I?"

Sam tensed, standing up from his seat. He wasn't going to tell her anything she'd said about him, that much he'd decided last night. He was just going to keep it to himself or better yet, pretend she hadn't said them at all. If he pretended it didn't happen, then he wouldn't have to acknowledge it.

"No," he shook his head. "You tried to sing though. And you and Rachel are best friends apparently."

She shrugged and ran her fingers over her hairline. "Well at least she's not a bitch. Where are you going?" she asked, watching him grab his sunglasses.

"I've gotta go get a few pictures on the beach, remember?"

"Can I come?" she asked.

He stopped his motions and glanced at her. He wouldn't mind the company but the way she looked, she seemed as if she'd pass out or worse, throw up at any second.

"...you aren't too hung over?"

"Well yeah, I'll be okay. I just need some orange juice. It always helps. It's keeping it down that's the tricky part," she laughed.

Sam snorted and bobbed his head. "There's some orange juice in the mini fridge," he said, securing the camera around his neck.

"Awesome," she smiled, popping up in her seat. "Gimme like ten minutes and I'll be ready."

He nodded and watched as she shuffled around the room to get dressed. Her ten minutes slowly turned into twenty which turned into thirty. Sam looked out the window and sighed.

"Cedes," he called.

"I'm coming," she said, kicking open the bathroom door. She had her flat-iron tight in her hand as it ran across a long piece of her hair. "See, I'm almost finished."

"You don't have to flat-iron your hair," he crossed his arms impatiently.

"Oh but I do," she said, not looking from the mirror. "If I don't, then it's a damn hassle later on. Besides, I can't find my scarf and that's a no-no."

"Cant forget that scarf," he said sarcastically.

She shot him a look and brought her toothbrush to her lips. "Dont joke when it comes to hair care." She kicked the bathroom door shut again and Sam let his head fall backwards as a groan escaped his lips.

"Cedes..."

"I'm ready," she smiled, coming out of the bathroom, her hair flowing over her shoulders loosely. "See. Patience young Padawan."

Sam's mouth dropped in confusion and shock. Less than two seconds ago she was brushing her teeth and only half way finished with her hair and suddenly she was dressed and ready to go.

"H-how did you... That was fast."

She bent over the bed to grab her sunglasses and nodded. "Yeah. Are you shocked or something?"

"You weren't ready a minute ago."

She shrugged, slipping her glasses onto her face. She patted his cheek and walked to the patio door. "I'm a woman Sam, you're never going to figure it out. Ever."

"I guess not," he said, following behind her. His feet sunk into the warm sand as the sun shined over them. It was the perfect time for him to take his pictures. The natural light was going to be just right and wouldn't need much editing from him.

_Good_, he thought. Less work for him to do.

"So what exactly are you taking pictures of?" she asked, bending down and taking off her sandals and walking barefoot in the sand.

"People. The water. The sand. Anything that represents The Hamptons in the summer," he said, lifting his camera to take a picture as a wave crashed to shore. Sam wished he could bottle up the smell, the sight, just this moment of utter and complete peace. He'd barely had a moment to breathe it seemed in the last few months and he did just that, inhaling the salty scent of the water and feeling the warm glare of the sun on his face.

"I always loved the beach," Mercedes said, breaking his thoughts. He looked over to her and silently agreed. The only time he'd ever been to the beach as a child was when his parents had taken him to visit his aunt on the shore. The entire trip ended up being a complete disaster from the unfortunate sleeping arrangement on his aunt's floor to the admission that his aunt and uncle were getting a divorce and it was going to be a nasty one, clear from the way they fought. Subconsciously, Sam knew that was the reason why he hated New Jersey to this day.

"I want that," Mercedes mumbled, looking at an older couple walking along the beach hand in hand. Sam rose his camera to take a quick picture of their silhouettes.

"I wanna be old and wrinkly with gray hair and still have my husband wanna kiss me," she continued, looking on fondly.

"You'll find it," he said, taking one more picture of the couple.

She lifted her glasses off her face and shrugged. "Ya think? Because now, I'm leaning towards being the crazy cat lady."

"No... You'll find it. I'm positive," Sam said, lifting the camera and snapped a few pictures of her as she looked out towards the crashing waves. The wind blew perfectly, blowing hair across her face and making her squint. Her fingers came to her face, trying to keep the strands out of her eyes and mouth and she caught a glimpse of Sam taking her picture. She turned to look at him and smiled.

"What are you doing?"

"Taking pictures of you," he said, clicking away.

"Why?" she asked, turning bashfully away from the camera. "I look gross. And hung over, remember?"

"Dont turn away," he said, trying to get her to look back at him. "You're beautiful."

She looked back his way with a small smile and let him take as many pictures as he wanted. She even did a few faces before doing the typical model faces, as Sam liked to call them. He got a few more shots in before he lowered his lense and looked at her, a smile ghosting his lips. There was a pregnant pause before they were interrupted by a high-pitched voice, calling them from the other end of the beach.

"You guys!" Rachel waved, dragging Lucas towards them. "I knew that was you two. Lucas thinks just because I don't have my contacts in, I'm completely blind. What are you guys doing?"

Mercedes and Sam shared a look before Sam spoke. "I just was taking some pictures. Candid shots," he smiled.

"Oh, I'd love to see some," Rachel grinned, taking the camera from Sam's hand unexpectedly. She jerked him with the camera towards her and looked through the last few shots taken. She looked up, glancing between the two best friends.

"These are really good," she smiled, handing the camera to her boyfriend. "Look Luke."

Lucas looked over her shoulder at the screen and agreed.

"Oh! Before I forget! Sam, did you want to take my car or your car to the Vanderbilt's?" Rachel asked, still looking between him and Mercedes.

"The who?" Sam frowned, not recognizing the name at first. The Vanderbilts were the only reason why he was here in the first place, of course he couldn't forget them. "Oh, right. Sorry. Yeah, we can take your car."

"Great!" Rachel clapped. "Well we better go. Bye Mercedes."

"See you later," she waved to the couple as they walked away. "Who are the Vanderbilts?"

"This rich family that normally get the Gazette to feature their annual Memorial Day art auction in the paper. It's a pain in the ass."

"Why do it then?"

"Because of the free vacation," he shrugged nonchalantly.

Mercedes rolled her eyes and gently bumped his shoulder with hers. "You go through hell just for a free vacation."

He nodded his head slowly and grinned. "You'd be surprised the things I'd do for a free vacation."

She opened her mouth to reply but shut it quickly, shaking her head. "That's just _too_ easy."

* * *

Sam was dead on his feet. Picture after picture of socialites and politicians who used their money and power for their own gain instead of helping others. It always disgusted him that they'd spend thousands on caviar and champagne but forget about all the people struggling to put food on the table. Even when he was growing up, his parents still raised him to be conscious to everyone else's situation and they were by no means rich. In fact, if Sam was being honest they were way below the middle class line. But he and Stevie never realized it until they were in middle school and saw that their life was vastly different from everyone else's. He was shocked to learn that not everyone lived in a walk up like he did or that everyone's father wasn't a super in the building and knew how to unclog a toilet with just a wire hanger. Even now, when he thought back on growing up, he couldn't remember ever wanting something and not getting it. They weren't spoiled but he would never go without a new pair of shoes and there was always food on the table.

He walked into his dark hotel room and immediately kicked off his shoes while his hand slipped from the doorknob and went to the tie around his neck. The glow of the television filled the room as he walked over towards the bed, flopping on the bed and groaning loudly.

"Hey."

Sam lifted his tired head to look at the bathroom door and gave Mercedes a lopsided grin as she walked toward him.

"Hey," he said back. "What did you spend your lovely evening doing?"

"Lucas and I found this pub and we played pool all day," she shrugged. "He's really a nice guy. How was the auction?"

"Tiresome. Draining. Annoying. I have a headache now," he grumbled, rubbing at his eyes.

"Too bad of a headache to take a walk with me on the beach?"

He glanced at her and slowly shook his head. "No. Not too bad."

It was a lie, his head was throbbing to the point where he could feel it in his eyes but he couldn't pass up a walk on the beach. More so, he _wouldnt_ pass it up.

Within minutes, they were on the beach, walking at a leisurely pace, the only sound coming from the crashing waves beside them.

"I've always wanted to take a moonlight walk on the beach," she confessed. "It seems so Nicholas Sparks-y but... I don't know, it seems peaceful."

"It is," he nodded, following her as she walked to the shore line. She dug her toes into the wet sand and lifted her shoulders, as if to savor the feeling.

"Lucas told me he was planning on proposing to Rachel tonight."

"What?"

"Yeah," she smiled. "I was shocked when he told me. But he said they'd been dating for like three years, off and on. He's sick of the off and wants the official on."

Sam looked out to the clear sky and sighed. "Wow... Good for her."

"Yeah. Is it weird?"

"Is what weird?"

"Hearing about other couples getting engaged?"

Sam thought about it for a moment, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets. "A little... But I am happy for Rachel and Lucas. They fit... Oddly enough."

"Right!" Mercedes laughed. "They're like peanut butter and marshmallow fluff. Sounds ridiculous but together it's perfection."

He eyed her incredulously and chuckled. "Would you believe I was thinking the same thing when we first met Lucas."

"Great minds thing alike," she winked. "I think I'm ready for that type of relationship."

"Really?"

"Yeah," she smiled. "Why not? I mean I know, I just got out of my thing with Matt but it's been two months. And the really sad part is that Matt never had this overwhelming impact on me that I'd have to mourn the death of our relationship for that long. It was the initial shock of the cheating and after that... Nothing."

"Did you want there to be more?" he asked.

She shrugged before answering. "Between Matt and I? No.. But I almost wanted to_ feel_ more. I'm 25 and I'm yet to experience real love. I tried thinking back on all my relationships the other day and how they affected me and who got closest but I didn't let any of them close. Or maybe they didn't try hard enough. It's just these stupid little flashes of date after date with no real substance, you know. Lots of fun, no real meaning to it." She sighed and wiggled her toes. "I want meaning. I wanna act crazy and stupid in love and have someone crazy and stupid with me. I wanna scream at the top of my lungs that I love somebody and have him scream it back. I just wanna fall in love accidentally yet on purpose and not realize it until I'm head over heels. Is that too much to ask?"

"No," Sam shook his head. "It's not."

She nodded and bit her lip. "Yeah, I didn't think so."

They locked eyes, much like they usually did but this time, it was different. Her words from last night floated in his mind and even though, he'd wanted to ignore them, they were there and they were loud. Something had shifted between them. It could have been because they were alone, away from their usual surroundings but the dynamic between them had changed, even if it was just a small difference. And as he watched her talk and kick her feet in the sand and water, Sam quickly realized just what that difference was. Why their looks were starting to feel heavier and heavier with each passing day. Why he was noticing small things from the way she laughed to the way she bit her lip when she was thinking to the way she stretched her fingers as a nervous habit.

His feelings were slowly but surely, shifting from platonic, into the friendship danger zone.

* * *

**A/N: Hey guys! So this is where it gets tricky. Where I make the transition from writing bffs to writing bffs who happen to like each other as more. Let us pray that I can do it. lol. I'm not 100% happy with this chapter. I mean, I like it, dont get me wrong but I'm not like in love with it. I dont know why. I'm a perfectionist when it comes to my writing and I can honestly tell you this chapter looked nothing like this in the first draft. The way I write it, I write all the chapters in advance. If I get a piece of dialogue while I'm like brushing my teeth, I run to my laptop, type it out and save that little piece of dialogue and form a chapter around it. And the part where Mercedes is talking about what she wants is that piece of dialogue that hit me before I was even finished writing out chapter 2. But yes, here we are. Sammy has feels. We have feels. Mercy has feels. Kiss already! lol No but yes, Sam is starting to realize he's not seeing Mercedes in the same soft, "friend" light. It's changing and fast. Now will he embrace it or run? (Those of you who read my stuff, when has anybody in my fics embraced the love? pfft.) But yeah, he's having those feels now and they're for someone other than Darcy. He's always put her on a ****pedestal and now, I dont think it's as much that he needs to lower his standards as it is that he just needs to kick Darcy off that damn pedestal. He's slowly taking her off it though. So yaaay for small miracles lol**

**Next Time on**_ Accidentally In Love_**...**

"So..."

"So?"

"Dont even. How was the Hamptons?"

"It was okay,"

"Okay? Come on, gimme more than that. Mike said the last time he talked to you, you were asking Cedes to go and I need dirty details."

**ANNNDDD**

"Okay, dont ask why but just pretend we're on a date."

"What? Why? What's-"

**Make sure you all review my lovelies (is that creepy or nah?) I love hearing theories like seriously lol. Loooovvee them. I normally ask a question so I'm gonna ask. Who do you think shows up first, Darcy or Matt? (and one of them does, I'll tell you that much) And after you tell me that, will they have an impact on samcedes?**


	12. The One Where Sam's Feelings Fight Back

**Disclaimer: Dont own the characters except for Darcy, Lucas and now Matt because I decided I wanted to use a different Matt instead of Rutherford. There's a reason you'll see later on. But when you think of _this_ Matt, think of ****Michael Ealy (I just saw About Last Night and boy did I see a lot of Mr. Ealy.) **

******I was like half asleep writing this (guess who got her ambien prescription! I'm too excited) So excuse any grammar mistakes you see. I usually try and weed then out. **

* * *

**June**

Sam was never one to openly say '_no'_. Not to his parents or friends or to himself. He'd always give a reasoning behind it. Whether he didn't have time to do whatever crazy thing Stevie or Puck would drag him into, or he was just too tired or whatever excuse he could think up. He never just said the word no.

Until now.

He decided, as soon as they got back from the Hamptons, that he was going to tell himself no. Whatever feelings he was having for Mercedes, he knew, they couldn't continue so he simply said no to himself, void of explanation or excuse. No, just because he said so.

And for a moment, he was okay. He'd figured that whatever he was feeling was an effect of being alone with Mercedes all weekend with no interruptions. His feelings weren't real. It was a quick, mindless, crush that would bear no fruit in the future. They were always going to be best friends.

Nothing more and nothing less.

But then Friday night happened, and Sam realized just how much his emotions hated hearing the word _'no'_.

They were seated at a diner, late at night, both a plateful of pancakes and two glasses of watered down orange juice.

"Okay, okay," Mercedes said, trying to be serious. "Your first girlfriend."

Somehow they'd landed on the conversation of firsts. First crushes, first loves, first kisses. And it was now Sam's turn to answer.

"Um," he paused, popping a blueberry in between his lips. "Kelly McCullough. Sophomore year of high school."

"Explain the looks and personality," Mercedes urged with a wave of her hand.

Sam licked his lips and reflected on his first girlfriend. "Alright she was a red-head. Some freckles. And she had these big brown eyes. She wasn't the nicest but I think that was because she knew she was pretty and popular. We met one Saturday when I was at baseball practice. Her and her friends came in, sashaying around in their pleated mini skirts, she walks right onto the field, looks me in the eye while I'm all sweaty and out of breath and red," he chuckled lightly at the memory. "And she says. _'You and I, are dating now'_. And that was it."

Mercedes laughed and sat back in her booth, shaking her head. "Wow... You must have been quite the looker for that to happen."

"You used past tense," Sam pointed out.

"Did I?" she smirked.

He nodded and took a quick sip of his nearly empty orange juice glass. "Honestly I don't think I was. I hadn't really grown into my body. My hair was ridiculously long, I was scrawny but I was a fast runner. So people liked me. Well, people who liked for us to win a baseball game liked me."

"I'm glad you hit puberty."

"Me too. Alright, your turn. First kiss?"

She bounced in her seat and giggled before biting her lip in concentration. "Okay... Dont laugh when I tell you this story or else I will never speak to you again. His name was Marcus Collins. I was 14. He was my best friends older brother... And he was_ the_ guy. You know the type of guy. He was the one all the girls wanted and swooned over. He was smooth and charming.."

"Much like me," Sam joked.

"Sure," she said sarcastically. "Anyways one day, I'm at my friend Mariah's house. We're hanging out, I'm in my pajamas looking god awful. Not to mention, its night-time, I have in my retainer that's a pain in the ass to put on with braces."

"Retainer?" he chuckled.

She pointed a warning finger at him and wagged it. "Again, if you laugh, consider this friendship over. Okay so, I have my retainer in and in walks Marcus, really cool, and he sits next to me and puts his arm around me and you have to understand, 14-year-old Mercedes is hot to trot. All my friends have kissed and made out, got felt up, you name it. So then he leans in and kisses me. Totally random, but I'm not going to fight it. The only problem is, he decided he wanted to skip first base and go straight to third. So his tongue is like trying to get past my lips but all I can think is, oh god. I have my spit covered retainer in my mouth and he's trying to shove his tongue down my throat."

Sam placed his elbow on the table as he slapped his hand over his mouth to keep from laughing any harder than he already was.

"So then he starts making these noises like he's frustrated and he like pulls away for a second and goes _'open your mouth a little'_. So, because I'm making out with the hottest guy, I do. And he ends up cutting his tongue on my braces when I accidentally bite down while trying to catch my retainer from slipping out."

By the time she finished, they were both laughing, tears falling down Sam's cheeks. He held his stomach, trying to stop the pain from on going cackling and took a few calming breaths.

"Oh my god," he sighs. "Why are you more interesting than me?"

"I don't know," she shrugged, reaching for her glass of orange juice. "I just am. They called me metal muncher for like a year after that. And you said you wouldn't laugh!"

"Is our friendship over?" he smiled.

She squinted her eyes at him and muttered into her glass. "You're luck you're cute." She went to take a sip of her drink and started to cough, making Sam's head snap forward in concern.

"Whoa, are you okay?" he asked, reaching over.

She didn't look at him, instead stared at the door behind them.

"Okay, don't ask why but just pretend we're on a date," she murmured, placing her glass down and reaching over to him.

"What? Why? What's-"

"Oh babe, you're so funny," she said, running her hand against his cheek.

_Babe_? Had she just called him babe? Sam mouthed the word a few times, looking up as a man, walked over to them.

"Mercedes," he chuckled, his blue eyes looking between the two. "Hi."

She perked up, dropping her hand from Sam's cheek. "Matt? Matt Rosedale is that you?"

"It's me," he smiled, his dazzling white teeth peering through his lips.

Sam watched the two as they tensely interacted. He remembered Mercedes saying Matt was a bit older than her but he never knew how much older until now. He looked to be about in his mid to late thirties, far too old to be cheating on his girlfriend. A little too old to even still be having a girlfriend. But he was just as attractive as Mercedes had described him. Impossible blue eyes, smooth caramel skin, and a killer watt smile.

Sam hated him just a little.

And he convinced himself it was because he'd hurt his best friend, not because he was looking at Mercedes like she was a drink of water in the middle of the desert.

"I haven't spoken to you since you got your things back," Matt grinned. "I'm sorry I didn't get to see you when you came and got them."

"It's fine. I know you're busy at the firm and everything," she waved her hand. "Oh, Matt, this is my boyfriend. Sam."

Sam cut his eyes at Mercedes quickly, wincing when she kicked him gently under the table.

"Boyfriend?" Matt rose an eyebrow.

Sam gritted his teeth from the pain in his leg and nodded. "Yup, boyfriend."

"Oh," Matt nodded. "Nice to meet you, man."

"You too," Sam replied, giving him a nod of his own.

"I didn't know you were seeing anyone. When we last talked, you weren't."

"Well you know how these things go. You meet someone and have an instant connection."

Matt nodded and licked his lips. "Right... So, do you still live at that building a few blocks away?"

"We do," Sam said before he could stop himself. He didn't know what he was saying anymore but suddenly he was very possessive and jealous, something he didn't have the right to be. She was his friend. If she wanted to pounce on Matt and have sex with him right now, it was her prerogative. That's not saying Sam wouldn't be in the least uncomfortable but she could do it if she wanted to.

"We?" Matt frowned.

"_We_," Mercedes smiled. "Speaking of we. Sweetie, we have the.. _thing _tonight, right?"

"Right," Sam nodded without blinking.

She scooted out of the booth and Sam followed obediently, tossing a few bills onto the table to pay for their late night meal.

"It was nice meeting you," he smiled, brightly as Mercedes grabbed his hand, lacing their fingers together.

"Nice meeting you too," Matt responded, his voice dull. "See you later Mercedes."

"Bye Matt," she waved over her shoulder before turning her back and letting Sam open the door for her.

It wasn't until they were out of view that Mercedes let go of his hand and breathed a heavy sigh of relief. He immediately missed the warmth of her touch and shoved his now sweaty palm into his jeans jacket pocket.

"Sorry about that," Mercedes sighed as they walked to their building. "I know I shouldn't have dragged you in on that but thanks for playing along."

"No problem," he shrugged. "So... That's Matt?"

"Yeah. That's him."

Sam nodded and let the silence flow between them before speaking again. "He really is good-looking."

"Didn't I tell you," she gasped and playfully hit his arm. "I used to tell him he looked like a god. He would just laugh it off."

"How old is he?"

"36. And before you ask, no, he wasn't a sugar daddy."

"I wasn't going to ask that."

She met his eyes and frowned. "Oh." She huffed, angrily pushing her hair out of her face. "I don't know why I lied back there. Maybe I wanted to win the break up or something."

"Win the break up?" he repeated. "What do you mean?"

She went to pull open the door to their building but Sam did it instead, letting her pass first. "Thanks... You know when two people break up and they bump into each other a while later. One of them wins. One is always more attractive than they were before or got a better job, making more money, whatever. Matt can't possibly get more attractive and he has a way better job than me so I decided, why not give myself a hot new boyfriend."

Sam glanced at her as they got on the elevator, her words hitting him a bit harder than he'd like. "You think I'm hot?"

"Shut up," she laughed, pressing their floor button. "No but really, thanks."

"You're welcome," he smiled, bumping her shoulder with his.

The elevator sounded and they both walked off, heading towards their respective apartments.

"Hey," Mercedes called, smiling when Sam pulled out his keys. "Next time you need a fake girlfriend, you know who to call."

He chuckled and waved at her as she went into her own apartment and shut the door behind her. Sam paused his hand and let his keys dangle between his fingers when he felt his feelings start an obvious rebellion against his 'no'

* * *

He felt like an animal under observation and tried not to fidget awkwardly under his younger brother's glare.

"Stevie," he started, his stare unwavering. "Um..."

"Something's different," the younger brother pointed his fork at Sam, chewing the same piece of steak he'd bitten off nearly a minute ago. "And not just the fact that you're shit at cooking either. Something has definitely changed."

"Nothing's changed," Sam shrugged, sawing his knife against the hard steak. Maybe Stevie was right, cooking wasn't his strong suit. "I'm the same."

Yes, he looked the same, spoke the same, everything on the _outside_ was the same but on the inside, there was something else stirring inside like an out of control hurricane. He'd been avoiding Mercedes. It wasn't on purpose in the beginning. The first few days after the diner, he was busy, she was busy. They were both working, both barely having time to wave to one another in the hallway. But then the previous day, when he saw her in the hallway, and he'd had time to actually talk, he chose to disappear into his apartment before either could speak and waved what he hoped was a passable greeting.

He couldn't, _wouldn't_, talk to her until he figured out the feeling he was having. No matter how small they were right now, he couldn't let them grow anymore than they already had.

And that wasn't going to happen if he didnt stop thinking about her, even for a minute. He would glance at the clock and wonder, what she was doing. If she'd just gotten off of work. If she had fallen asleep in her work clothes the way he was sure she often did. If she'd remembered to wrap her hair at night or if she'd fallen asleep listening to music in her ears, humming along to the song she'd heard a million times.

"So..." Stevie urged him to continued.

"So, what?"

"Dont even. How was the Hamptons? For _real _this time. You've been back, what, a week or two and still no peep about what it was like."

"It was okay," Sam answered simply.

Stevie scoffed, running a hand through his hair and finally giving up on the dinner. "_Okay_? Come on, gimme more than that. Puck said the last time he talked to Mike you were asking Cedes to go and I need dirty details."

"There are no _dirty details_."

"Bullshit," Stevie coughed.

Sam glanced at his brother and pushed the tough steak to the side before stabbing a kernel of corn. "It was good and we had fun."

"Why do I feel a but coming?"

"_But_...something did change."

Stevie brightened and scooted to the edge of his seat, as if he was hearing a juicy piece of gossip "I knew it! You two totally fuc-"

"No!" Sam stopped him quickly. "No, we didn't. We wouldn't never._ I_ would never."

Stevie scoffed, crossing his arms. "Bullshit. If you have a beating heart and red blood going through your veins then you surely would. And you'd thoroughly enjoy it," he said, making a quick smacking motion with his hand.

Sam looked at his younger brother in disgust and shook his head. "Can you go five minutes without objectifying women?"

"Can you grow a pair of balls and admit you'd fuck your best friend?" Stevie shrugged, taking a sip of his beer.

Sam ignored brother's words and sighed deeply. "Will you let me finish please?"

"Go for it."

"I think I'm projecting."

"Projecting?" Stevie frowned, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion. "That doesn't sound kinky at all."

"It's not. I think I'm projecting some of my feelings for Darcy onto Mercedes."

"Can you do that?"

"I think so, yes."

Stevie nodded and open his mouth slowly. "So... You're starting to feel Cedes?"

"A little, yeah."

"Hmm. What's the problem?"

"The problem is that she's my best friend and I can't feel anything for her other than pure friendship. Anything else and it'll ruin everything."

Stevie scoffed and licked his teeth. "How? You're both attractive people and she has body parts you like and I'm assuming you have body parts she likes. Match made in fucking heaven."

"It's wrong because she's been my person that I've gone to when I had no one else," Sam explained, earning a glare from Stevie.

"Yeah, little brother sitting over here is chopped liver."

Sam shook his head and placed his fork down. "You know I didn't mean it like that. But you... I couldn't be vulnerable in front of you. I've always been the big brother who patted your back when you were down."

"More reason why I could have returned the favor," Stevie said, standing up to place his plate in the sink. "You always do that, you know. You block us all out because you think you have to be strong and you can't break. You're human. We know it happens. It doesn't make you any less you if you hurt. You did the same thing when Dad died."

He hadn't shed a tear over his father's death until six months after his funeral. It wasn't that his was heartless or that he didn't love his father. In fact, his father was his hero, temper and awful eating habits included. He looked up to his father, as if he was his own personal role model and watching his father's casket enter the ground was like a stake to the heart. But he couldn't cry. Sam had become the man of the household almost overnight and he'd had a little brother and mother that were looking to him for some kind of guidance. So he became the strong one when they were weak. And six months after that rainy Sunday at the cemetery, he'd finally broken down while watching the Yankees' make it to the world series, and realizing that his father wasn't there to yell at the umpire through the TV anymore.

"Old habits die-hard," Sam shrugged. "Look, being around Mercedes. She didn't know me. I didn't know her. All I knew was that we were in the same boat. And I depended on her. I don't think I'm ready to lose that."

"Who says you'll lose it?" Stevie asked, pulling out a carton of cigarettes from his back pocket and walking over to the large window in the living room. He pushed it open and sat on the ledge, waiting for Sam to answer him.

"It'll happen," Sam answered, standing up also. "It always does. Feelings get involved between friends and the entire friendship gets shot to hell. It's a line I can't cross. There's too many risks that comes with it."

Stevie bobbed his head in mock concentration and lit a cigarette, slowly blowing out the smoke. Sam reached for the carton in Stevie's hand and tapped one out before bringing it to his lips.

"I thought you quit," Stevie spoke, tapping the ash from the tip of his cigarette.

"I quit for Darcy," Sam shrugged, his own placed between his teeth as he leaned forward to light it.

Stevie nodded before chuckling lightly. "Too many risks, huh? You know these things have a lot of risks too," he said, holding up the cigarette in between his fingers. "These things killed Dad."

"Bacon killed Dad," Sam corrected with a roll of his eyes. He took a long drag of his cigarette and swallowed the smoke before breathing it out of his nose.

"These didn't help though. They can cause cancer, blindness, heart issues, lung issues, you name it," Stevie shrugged.

Sam made a bored face and breathed out more smoke. "Why buy them then?"

"I'm addicted that's why," Stevie smirked. "But back to the point. Life is full of risks Sammy. Some are just worth taking."

Sam licked his lips and inhaled the scent of the cigarette smoke. "Yeah, well, I'm not taking this one with Cedes. I can't lose her. I wont."

"What if she feels the same way?" Stevie offered.

Sam thought back on her drunken words but shook his head. Having her feel the same way would be that much worse because then they both were put in a position where their friendship could be on the line.

"She told me I was her type," he spoke slowly, his foot jittering as he crossed his leg over his thigh.

Stevie reached out and slapped his brother's arm, smirking when he leaned back. "Why didnt you tell me that in the beginning? Even better!"

"No, not better. Worse. So much worse. She was drunk for one-"

"When you're drunk you tell the truth, continue."

"-And I'm not ready for that. I'm not ready for what I'm feeling to be real. I wanna chock it up to us being alone for a weekend and leave it at that. Besides," he started, flicking his cigarette out of the window. "My feeling might not even really be romantic."

Stevie scoffed, taking one last drag of his now shortened cigarette. "If you believe that, you're an idiot."

Sam cut his eyes to Stevie and watched as he shrugged.

"I call it like I see it big brother. I just hope you know, that feeling, feelings, whatever. It's gonna grow and it'll keep growing until it's figured out."

"That's what I'm trying to do. That's why I haven't seen her since last week sometime."

"You're avoiding her?" Stevie asked incredulously. "Sam, what the hell? Are we in high school again?"

"It's not on purpose," he defended. "It's accidental. She has two jobs you know. And I need to sort out whatever this is."

Stevie raised a hand and pinched the bridge of his nose, hid cigarette dangling between his fingers. "Okay, so let me get this straight. You're avoiding her to sort out your feelings-"

"Feeling," Sam corrected. "Singular."

"-_feelings_," Stevie said sternly. "You have for her so in turn you don't lose her?"

"Right," Sam nodded.

"But arent you already losing her by avoiding her?"

Sam opened his mouth to speak but found no words could come out. He suddenly felt like the biggest idiot in the world. Was he really, inadvertently causing the one thing he was trying so hard to prevent.

"I-"

Stevie cupped his ear, eager to hear what Sam's response would be. When he heard none, he nodded with a smirk and stood up, tossing his now crushed bud out the window. "Exactly. You just canceled yourself out there Mr. Oxymoron, heavy on the moron."

Sam's eyes followed his brother as he threw himself on the couch and propped his feet up. Now that he heard it out loud, his actions weren't making much sense. Since the diner, he thought he could make whatever he was feeling stop but he couldn't. Whatever it was, it was persistent and it felt like staying right where it was.

"Looks like someone needs to make a visit across the hall, _genius_," Stevie added, sucking his teeth and grabbing the remote to turn on a baseball game.

* * *

**A/N: Hi guys! Whoo! Soo! How'd you guys like this chapter? Sam said hell to the no to those feelings. He is not trying to lose his bestie. And you know, it makes sense. I dont know what it is about people but when they start to fall for a friend, they automatically assume they'll lose them instead of thinking of all the awesomeness they'll gain. *sigh* This chapter was fun to write, especially the first part. Those of you who guessed Matt. Twelve points for Gryffindor (Not even my house, ick) Stevie dropped some truth bombs and Sam's been avoiding Mercedes. Not cool bro. And I gotta say, he's got it bad if he's worried about her wrapping her hair up at night. He already knows and it's only been a few months. haha. I always forget to tell you guys. There's no Stacy in this fic. I dont know why it came out like that but I just didnt put her in it. I only gave Sam one sibling. **

**Next Time on **_Accidentally In Love..._

"Stranger Danger."

"Can I come in?"

"I dont know, can you?"

_**ANNNDDD**_

"Mike got offered a job at the Times."

**I cant really think of a kick ass question that'll most likely foreshadow like I normally do so just leave your awesome reviews and comments and all that. They make me happy. Oh, have I mentioned how kick ass you guys are? Your reviews are everything, seriously. I gotta start responding to them because the fact that you guys will stay up late or binge read makes me giddy. Okay until next time. Stay fly (because apparently I'm a rapper from 2001. Stay fly? What's wrong with me?) **


	13. The One With The Best Friend or No?

**Dont own Glee. Because... come on. Glee in French is_ le wiggy wack_ (I took three years of French, I can verify that's correct) **

* * *

Sam's knuckles rapped at the wooden door of Mercedes' apartment mere seconds after receiving the tongue lashing from Stevie. It was still weird of him to think that Stevie, of all people, had just given him advice.

Advice that he'd needed and was now taking.

Stevie was always the one doing the opposite of what he was advised to do, not dishing it out like Dr. Phil.

Sam frowned, realizing that it was just as bad that he'd _needed_ the advice from Stevie.

He lifted his head, hearing laughter on the other side of the door and frowned when he was met with Rachel's amused eyes. Her hair was up in a high pony tail and what he assumed was avocado was pasted across her face.

"Hi Sam!" she said, her voice chipper.

"Rachel?" he frowned. "What are you doing answering Mercedes' door?"

"We were having a girls night in. Watching bad movies, painting our nails, talking about _boys_," she said, emphasizing her last part and poking him in the chest. "We were just about to wash off our face scrubs."

He nodded his head and shoved his hands in his pockets, glancing down at Rachel's sock covered feet. She clicked her heels together and giggled, looking down at her feet.

"Admiring my socks?" she smiled.

"Yeah they're... _Bright_."

"Yellow's a happy color," she grinned.

"I guess so. Perfect for spring."

"Mhm," she hummed. "I'm assuming you wanna talk to Cedes?"

"Would you mind?"

"Nope," she chirped, slamming the door in his face.

He jumped at the sound and stepped back, waiting patiently. After a few seconds of silence, the door opened again, except this time, he was face to face with Mercedes. She was dressed in black sweat pants and an off the shoulder yellow top that matched Rachel's socks, her now familiar pink scarf wrapped tightly around her pony tail.

"Stranger danger," she whispered, leaning against her door frame, a small smirk on her full lips. "When Rachel told me it was you, I thought she was lying."

Sam chuckled lightly. What else could he do? It was awkward enough. He was avoiding her and she knew it. She just didn't know why. So he laughed nervously again and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Can I come in?"

"I don't know, can you?"

"_May_ I come in?" he corrected himself.

She widened the door, letting him in and followed him as he walked into the apartment. Sam wasn't sure what he had expected when he'd envisioned her apartment, but what he saw was far from what he would have guessed. He would have thought from her bright, vibrant and youthful attire, her apartment would be the same but it was the complete opposite. Her homes' style was calm, cool, sophisticated. A cream sofa, accented by red pillows, was placed in the middle of the living room, two end tables on each side and a lamp of each of those.

"I can't believe I've never been in here before," he said out loud.

"Isnt this place the best?" Rachel beamed from the living room. "I told Cedes I was going to move in with her if Lucas and I don't work."

"Which isn't going to happen," Mercedes smiled, leading Sam into the kitchen so they could talk in private. "So what's up?"

How did he start this conversation without sounding like a bumbling idiot?

His mind went blank for a response and he decided just to start off with an apology.

"I'm sorry that I've been avoiding you."

She shook her head and bit her lip. She was thinking, he could tell, but thinking about what?

"No, it's my fault. I'm sorry," she sighed

Sam froze at her reaction. He was expecting her to be upset, yell at him, tell him that their friendship was over or that he was not a good person for seeing her in the hallway and barely even saying hi, but not for her to apologize to him.

"What?" he blinked in confusion.

"I shouldn't have dragged you into that fake couple thing with Matt. I should have just told him the truth. And I should have known it would make you uncomfortable. But I don't know, it was my pride or something. I just didn't want him to think I was worse off without him when I'm not."

"Cedes, that's not why I was avoiding you," he shook his head.

"It's not?" she frowned.

"No."

"Then why were you?"

"Because I..." he trailed off, not sure what he could tell her. He couldn't tell her the truth, which was a conversation he _never _wanted to have with her, especially not with Rachel in the room over, but he couldn't lie either. "I just felt like I needed a minute to detox from the Hamptons. I guess I realized Rachel's engagement hit me harder than I thought it would. I just didnt realize it until we got back."

Lying seemed like a better option the more he weighed it in his mind.

Her lips formed a small 'o' shape before she nodded, knowingly. "Why didnt you tell me?" she asked, placing her hand on his shoulder.

His arm warmed from her touch and he fought to keep his thoughts on track. He needed to focus and ignore the feel of her soft fingers against his skin as she smoothed her hand over his arm. Ignore the urge to graze his knuckles against her cheek and caress her skin.

Focus.

He needed to...

Had she always smelled like vanilla and summertime? Hot and fiery but still sweet?

"It's fine," he said, snapping his mind back to where it needed to be. "I'm fine now. Sorry I was avoiding you."

"It's fine," she shook her head. "I understand. But you know Darcy doesnt deserve anymore of your pain, right?"

Yet another thing he wasn't expecting her to say. How was it that he could ignore her for days, and she was still an amazing friend? She was perfect, Sam decided, right then in there in her kitchen. She was perfect and she could do no wrong. He might have been boosting her onto her own pedestal but until she proved him wrong, in his mind, she was perfect.

"I know," he nodded. "Thanks... so what were you two doing before I came barging in?"

"We decided to have one of those girls night in that we see in the movies but no one in real life ever has. So, after watching Twilight, gag me, we're going to watch Mean Girls. Feel free to join us."

"I can't... Stevie is over for dinner," he said pointing behind him to her door.

"Oh I get it. Brotherly bonding. Very nice," she smiled. "Tell him I said hi. And to call me sometime."

Sam stiffened, his jaw tightening. Yet again, he felt an emotion he wasn't allowed to feel.

She wasn't his.

She was never going to be his so the jealousy that he felt spring up in his chest, needed to go before it became obvious that her with Stevie was the_ last_ thing he wanted.

She stared at him, stone faced before breaking out into a smile. "I'm kidding."

"Right," he chuckled lightly, shoving his hands in his jeans pockets. He hated that he breathed a sigh of relief when she said she was joking. He hated that the idea of her calling Stevie, even to just have a cup of coffee with him made his blood boil. But most of all, he hated that his feelings were becoming more and more apparent.

"I should get back before Stevie comes in here to crash your girl's night... I'll see you guys later. Bye Rachel."

"Bye Sam!" she called, her mouth full of popcorn and her body sprawled out on Mercedes' couch.

He raised a hand to wave before smiling down at Mercedes. "Bye."

She surprised him for a third time that night and pulled him into a tight hug.

"I'm always just across the hall," she whispered in his ear.

He tried not to shiver at her warm breath on his skin or the way her vanilla scent overwhelmed his senses. He could taste her if he focused enough. His mind started to wander and he pulled away, a little too quickly. The last thing he needed to think about was what his best friend tasted like.

"Thanks," he said, his voice higher pitched than he'd meant it to be.

Mercedes just laughed and tightened the bow on her head. "You're welcome. See ya later."

He nodded in response and held his breath until he was in the confines of his own apartment.

"How'd it go?" Stevie asked, never taking his eyes off the television.

"She smells like vanilla and summer," Sam replied, looking straight ahead before looking at his brother.

Stevie chuckled, taking his eyes off the game for a split second. "I guess those feelings are becoming plural Sammy."

* * *

Sam clicked away at his laptop, sending a quick email to Jesse instead of walking across the building to talk to him face to face. He was being forced to do an engagement announcement shoot, of all pieces, in late August. He was still trying to convince Jesse to get him out of it when Puck came walking into his office, a grin the size of New York on his face.

"Guess who has two tickets to the Mets game for next week Saturday?" he grinned, flopping into his usual seat. "I'm supposed to be covering it but I might need my favorite photographer there to help me take pictures with the team."

Sam groaned, dropping his hands from his laptop. "Do you have any idea what type of dream come true that would be? But I can't."

"What?" Puck frowned, sitting up straight. "Why not?"

"Stevie and I are being forced to spend the day with my mom."

"Tell Mary she's infringing on work."

Sam shook his head. "No can do. She made us clear our schedules weeks in advance. She feels like we're ignoring her."

"Well are you?" Puck asked.

"Not on purpose," Sam replied. "I just recently got her to stop looking at me like someone died whenever I see her. She tries to hide it, but I can see."

"See what?"

"That she's still grieving over me and Darcy."

"Dude, it's been four months."

"Yeah but four months to erase five years of memories," he shrugged. "It's hard."

Puck bobbed his head and shoved a stick of gum in his mouth. "You did it."

Sam looked up at his friend and nodded slowly.

Had he done it? Was it over with just like that? In four months since the break up, was he over Darcy completely?

No.

He wasn't _completely_ over her. He wasn't sure he'd ever be. The same way he'd never be over the Yankees beating the Mets at the World Series 14 years ago. He still found a piece of him aching for what could of been but now, it wasn't as much her as it was that the plans they'd made together was nowhere to be found, crashing and burning the minute the name _Harvey _escaped her lips.

"It's not that easy is all I'm saying," he finally spoke, turning back to his laptop.

"Right, right," Puck sang. "Hey, have you heard from Mike? I tried calling him the other day and Quinn said he was out. And today, I asked Jesse where he was and apparently he's on vacation."

Sam hummed, not surprised by their best friend's disappearance. Mike had been scarce around the office as of lately and from Puck's reaction to it, Sam could tell he was yet to know about the true reason Mike was gone so much.

"Can you believe that?" Puck asked, incredulously.

"Nope," Sam said, not looking away from his laptop.

Puck narrowed his eyes at him and rose from his seat. "What was that?"

"What was what?" Sam shrugged.

"That look," Puck pointed. 'That look like you're keeping something big from me."

Sam sighed, lifting his head from the screen. He really rather not be the person to tell Puck about Mike's offer. In fact, it should have been Mike here, telling both of them about his exciting news.

"What's happening?" Puck asked, his tone worried.

Sam huffed and walked over to his office door, shutting it firmly before he spoke. "Mike got offered a job at the Times."

"No he didn't," Puck shook his head.

"He did," Sam nodded, leaning against the glass.

"No... _No_! Sneaky son of a bitch didn't even tell me," Puck said, starting to pace.

"He didn't tell me either. Rachel did. Apparently that was why he turned down the Hamptons piece."

"I thought Rachel snaked that from him?"

"Nope," Sam shook his head. "She got it fair and square. Oh and she's not sleeping with Jesse either."

"What?!" Puck asked shocked. "Damn, you got more info on our coworkers than you did on any socialites. Anything else I need to know?"

"I think that's it."

Puck flopped back into his chair, running his hand over his head and breathing out slowly. "I cant believe Mike's leaving us."

"There's no guarantee," Sam tried to reason. But as soon as he said it, he knew Mike was going to leave. Who would stay at the Gazette when you could work for the Times, the dream of all journalists on the east coast?

"There is a guarantee," Puck scoffed. "We've been best friends since we started working here."

"I know."

"And now... He keeps something that big from us."

"I know."

"Why?"

Sam could only shrug in response. It was the same question he'd been asking himself since Rachel first told him. He thought he and Mike were close. He even considered him a best friend, making him a groomsman in his soon to be doomed wedding but maybe Mike didn't feel the same if he was keeping such a large secret from him.

"I can't believe it," Puck muttered, breaking through Sam's thoughts. "I kinda wanna kick his ass but I also wanna congratulate him."

"Yeah," Sam agreed, walking away from the door. "I don't know if he thinks we'll be mad or-"

"Damn right we're mad," Puck cut him off. "Or at least I am! I'm pissed. Livid! I'm livid!"

"But you're also happy for him," he said, more as a statement.

"I am," Puck said, his voice calming down.

Sam nodded and walked back over to his desk, tugging at the tie around his neck. "Yeah, I know. Cedes asked me if I was jealous and I could barely answer her."

"I am," Puck confessed. "I'm jealous because I was never as good as Mike. He's always kicking ass here. Writing these moving articles that make us think. He's like that Owen Wilson character from Marley & Me but with better hair and a straighter nose. I'm happy for him though. All the other emotions come second because he's my best friend. What are we supposed to do though?"

Sam sat down back in his seat and sighed. "I guess we just give him space and wait for him to tell us."

"And then we get to kick his ass?" Puck asked hopefully.

Sam couldn't help but chuckle. "Yeah... And then we kick his ass."

* * *

**A/N: I'm ALLIIIIVVVEEE haha. I know you guys got used to my fast updates and then I just fell off the face of the earth but I didnt. RL got in the way. Job, school, all those type of things that like to take a big ass chunk out of your real life. And every time I went to even write a sentence for this chapter, something else came up. *sigh* But I'm back now, and I've written this, Chapter 14, and ALLL of chapter 15 (that's right, it's Finished!) And oh my god, it gets so good. I reread it and gasp at my own creation. Damn skippy I toot my own horn. TOOT! **

**So this chapter was a bit of a filler. That's why it's a bit shorter than my others. I wanted to address the Mike situation in this chapter and we're going to find out soon why he's kept his job offer to himself. And he has a good reason, trust me. And aww Rachelcedes were having a girl's night type thing. When I do outtake chapters, I might do one for Rachel and Mercedes and what they talked about. Rachel gave a hint for one of the subject matters though. Alright, next chapter, Mary's back. More Stevie (because he's literally my favorite beside Cedes) More Evans Men bonding, more Samcedes bonding. They even go shopping (whoops spoiler alert) **

**Oh, before I forget. I dont remember which one of you suggested I listened to So Fly by Elle Varner, because of my "Stay fly" comment last A/N (still hating myself a little for that haha) But ahh It's such a good song. It was on repeat for SOOO long. So thanks for that! **

**Next Time On **_Accidentally In Love_**... **

"You know what made me fall in love with New York?"

"What?"

"SNL."

"Saturday Night Live? Like the show?"

_**ANNNND**_

"Did we just spend an entire day at IKEA?'

"I think we did. It's the damn chocolate cake."

**Alright, question timmmeeee! Now we all know Darcy is going to come back (and if you didnt, sorry, yet another spoiler alert) But what I want to know is your guesses from how she's going to come back? I saw one review a few chapters ago saying she's going to come back, begging for Sam so let me know how you think she's going to come back. Will it be because Harvey dumped her? Or because she truly misses Sam? Or will she see Samcedes and get jealous? Let me know! Alright, make sure you guys review (squeals because 200+ reviews) Later alligators! **


	14. The One At IKEA

_**"Building IKEA furniture is Satan's favorite hobby."**_ -_Buzzfeed_

"What is it about IKEA that makes people keep coming back? I can't even pronounce any of the products," Sam grumbled as they walked through the store. They'd been in there for two hours, at first wandering around aimlessly until Mercedes had dragged Sam over to the restaurant to at least try some of the chocolate cake. But even the moist, delicious cake didn't make him like the store. Or even help him forget what he was feeling. He was still fighting himself and it was a losing battle. His feelings were getting stronger and stronger by the day and for the first time in his life, Sam understood what The Hulk felt like. Consumed with emotions he couldn't control until eventually he just gave in. Granted, The Hulk was a fictional character and was consumed with anger and rage but Sam could understand and he didn't want to give in. Not at the risk of losing Mercedes. She was his own personal sun and the last thing he wanted was to lose her.

"You're here," Mercedes said with a small smirk. "What's that say about you?"

"That I'm a consumer and I like inexpensive things," he chuckled.

She nodded her head and went to pick up a pack of candles, bringing the plastic wrapped items to her nose. "I might need to get some of these block candles. Here, smell."

She placed the plastic covered candles under his nose and he inhaled, instantly wishing he hadn't.

Vanilla.

The one scent that had been haunting him since they'd hugged in her apartment. It wasn't that he hated the scent or thought it wasn't appealing. It was that as soon as the fragrance hit his nose, he thought of his best friend. It was counterproductive when he was trying to get her off his mind.

"Smells good," he said half heartily.

Mercedes rolled her eyes, putting the candle down with her free hand, the other balancing a small sample cup of meatballs. "That lacked so much enthusiasm."

"What?" he shrugged. "It did smell good."

"Sure."

Sam picked the candles back up and tried to pronounce the name. Yet another thing he hated about IKEA. He understood they wanted to stick to their roots but it would be nice to have the english equivalent written underneath.

"They totally made that name up. How do you even pronounce that?" he asked.

Mercedes looked over his shoulder, her curly dark locks landing on Sam's arm. Her scent washed over him and Sam nearly stumbled back to keep from burying his face in her hair. Surely sniffing his best friend's hair would be a clear indication that his feelings had gone way past the point of platonic.

Or it would at least come off as creepy.

"I have no idea," she said. "You'd think they'd put english subtitles underneath the Swedish words for us uncultured swine."

"Yeah, you'd think," he muttered.

She looked up, her large brown eyes staring at him. "Are you okay?"

She was too close. She was far too close and he was slowly losing the battle of wanting to touch her. Especially since there was a strand of hair, dangling in front of her eyes. He wondered if she saw it, or if she just didn't care. Sam clenched his hands at his sides to keep from reaching out and stepped back.

"Yeah, I'm okay. The names are just... Upsetting," he nodded.

"Here," she said, handing him a meat ball on a toothpick. "Have a meatball. It'll make you happy and help you forget about the names."

Sam reluctantly took a bite and licked the sauce from his lips. "What type of meat is this anyways?"

"I dont think we want to know," she laughed, nibbling on the rest of the meatball. "I didn't even know there was an IKEA so close by. Another reason why I love New York. You know what made me fall in love with the city though?"

"What?"

"SNL."

"Saturday Night Live? Like the show?"

She nodded, tossing the toothpick back into the container. "Yeah. My mom used to watch it all the time. Like when the greats were on. And as a little girl every Saturday night, I'd sit in front of the TV and watch it thinking that if something this funny could be made live in a city, then that city was for me. That's why I visited when I was 16. I was trying to get tickets to see SNL live but, I didn't get to. So when I decided my singing career was going to happen, I moved here because no other place could handle me."

"Did you ever get to see SNL live?"

"Nope. Still haven't gotten the chance. But it's okay, because one day I'm gonna perform there. And I'll have an up front view of the show."

Sam smiled crookedly, still looking at her. "Save me a ticket."

"It's a given."

She jumped onto the arrow on the floor and laughed when Sam did the same. He would never play in the store with anyone else but for some odd reason, he couldn't turn down hopping on the arrows as if they were stones and the rest of the ground was lava. He jumped forward, waiting for Mercedes to do the same and tried not to laugh when the meatball container went flying out of her hand.

"Whoops," she said, bending down to pick them up and deposited them in the trash can. She turned her glare back to Sam and crossed her arms. "Stop laughing."

"I'm not... I'm not laughing," he said, trying to keep a straight face.

"Sure," she said sarcastically before hopping back on her arrow. They both looked odd to the other shoppers around them, watching as the two adults hopped around like children, both laughing with each stumble.

"Okay, what are we even looking for?" Mercedes asked, bouncing forward. "We've been here all afternoon and we haven't picked up anything but meatballs."

"And cake," Sam added, jumping after her.

"And cake. What are you trying to get for your bachelor pad," she smiled.

"Curtains... Bed sheets. Some of the stuff I got rid of when I did my spring cleaning."

"We're still calling it that, huh?" she said, gracefully jumping two arrows ahead.

"Nice!" Sam praised, trying to do the same and nearly falling. "And yeah, we're still calling it spring cleaning."

"Okay," she sang, spinning around to face him. "So... Curtains, bed sheets, anything else?"

Sam moved in step with her. "Uh, maybe a new bed?"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "I think I should get rid of mine. It has... _Memories_."

Mercedes shook her head, pausing on the arrow she was standing on. "Boy don't I know what you mean by that," she said.

Sam stared down at the ground and hopped forward, not expecting Mercedes to still be on the arrow. They nearly fell down as he bumped into her but he reached out, clasping his hands around her waist to steady her.

"Whoa... You okay?" he asked, looking up to meet her eyes.

Big Mistake.

They were close. Closer than they'd ever been to each other. The vanilla was now overwhelming Sam and he gulped loudly, realizing a little too late that his grip around her waist had tightened. Her hands were on his forearms and he tried not to shiver at the feel of her thumbs, gliding across the fabric of his hoodie. They stared at one another, his eyes searching hers and instinctively going to her lips for a split second. They were plump and slightly pink, most likely from the lip gloss she'd used earlier. He watched as her bottom lip slipped between her teeth and breathed in sharply.

Was he inching forward?

He was. He was getting closer to her and he couldn't find it in him to stop.

"Can I help you?"

Their heads snapped in unison to look at the employee staring at them, not moving out of each other's grasp.

"What?" Sam said first, blinking a few times to clear his head out of the fog it was in.

"I said can I help you," the employee said again.

"Um, beds," Sam muttered

The employee nodded slowly. "They're this way. If you wanna follow me."

Sam and Mercedes pulled away, both straightening out their clothes as if they'd been caught in a more compromising position.

_Too close_, Sam thought as he followed behind the employee silently. It was way too close for comfort. He'd almost kissed her and he didn't even have the will to stop himself in the moment.

The employee was talking as he led them down the aisle of bed samples but Sam could barely hear him. He looked at Mercedes out of the corner of his eye and watched as her fingers ran against her lips. Was she thinking the same thing? Had she wanted to kiss him?

Sam wouldn't let himself think it. He knew that in a drunken haze she'd confessed to wanting to kiss him but it couldn't happen. That line couldn't be crossed.

"I'm assuming you're looking for a queen or a king. I know most couples prefer more space with their beds."

"We're not a couple," Mercedes said quickly.

"Yeah, no, we're just friends. She's just helping me look for stuff."

"Just helping out a friend," she snapped her fingers and pointed finger guns at him.

The employee, who Sam figured out was named Jared from his name tag, nodded his head and looked between the two.

"Oh. Okay. Well what size are you looking for?" Jared asked.

"Um," Sam gulped. "Queen. I'm looking for a Queen."

* * *

"_Mooooomm_," Stevie groaned as his mother snatched the barely lit cigarette from his lips and threw it into the waste bin.

"Dont you dare Steven. You're not going to smoke in my house. You don't see Sam smoking."

"Neither do you apparently," Stevie muttered under his breath, twisting his fork around the pasta.

"So... Sammy, how's your neighbor?"

Sam looked up, mid chew and stared at his mother. He almost knew, subconsciously that she'd ask about Mercedes one way or another. He just didn't expect her to be so blunt about it. She was normally smoother, beating around the bush to find out answers to what she wanted to know.

"She knows about Cedes?" Stevie asked incredulously.

"You've met her too?" Mary raised an eyebrow. "Seems like there is something going on between you two."

"No," Sam shook his head.

It was the truth. There was nothing going on. Except the almost kiss they had yet to talk about. They'd taken a cab back to their apartment building after leaving IKEA with bags of curtains and bed sheets for Sam's place, but they'd talked as if nothing had almost happened. Like the moment was a dream or a distant memory and neither of them remembered it.

"Nothing Mom," he continued. "We're just friends. There's nothing going on."

Stevie scoffed. "Yeah, except for the fact that you're falling in lo-_OW_!" he shouted, feeling Sam kick him under the table. "I need that leg."

"For what, chasing after women?" Sam smirked into his glass of milk.

"Uh, yeah!" Stevie exclaimed, reaching down to rub his throbbing leg. "Dont kick me because you have a thing for Mercedes and you can't deal with it."

"A _thing_?" Mary asked, a small frown on her thin lips. "What kind of _thing_?"

"Nothing Mom. Stevie, shut up," Sam said through clenched teeth. He felt like he was in high school all over again and Stevie was telling their mother that he'd brought a girl into the house after curfew.

Stevie raised his hands in surrender and picked up his fork. "Sam and Cedes sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N- _ow_!"

Sam had kicked him yet again, hopefully in the same spot. He just wanted his younger brother to shut up. The more he talked, the more questions their mother was going to ask and that was the last thing Sam wanted when he couldn't even answer any questions himself.

"Are you twelve?" he growled.

"Are you?" Stevie pouted. "That really hurt. Mommy, he kicked me."

"Man child," Sam muttered.

"Bully," Stevie shot back.

Mary sighed, placing her knife and fork down. "Boys, stop it." She glared at both of them until they went back to eating silently. Sam would never say it but he was a little scared of his mother. Growing up, his father was the disciplinarian in the house but it was the eerie look his mother would give him after the punishment was dished out. Like she was secretly behind it and his father was just the henchmen.

"So... You have a _thing_ with your neighbor?" Mary finally said.

Sam was expecting it. He was counting down to when she'd speak up and she'd barely lasted thirty seconds.

"No Mom, she and I don't have a thing. She's a friend and Stevie is just reading into things that aren't there," Sam spoke, glaring across the table at his brother. Stevie just shrugged.

"I see what I see Sammy," he said, taking a bite of his garlic bread.

Mary took a few bites of her meal before speaking. "Dont you think it's a little soon to start dating honey."

"Mom, I'm not dating her. We're just friends."

"Yeah right," Stevie mumbled. "Friends who wanna fu-ow!"

Mary had reached across the table and flicked his ear, stopping him mid curse. "No language like that in my house or I'm sending you to the confessional."

Stevie frowned, his bottom lip poking out in a pout as he rubbed his now red ear. "I'm getting sick of you people hitting me."

The clink of Mary's fork with her plate brought in a new silence to the dining room before she instantly broke it. "So just friends then?"

"Just friends," Sam nodded.

A small smile formed on her lips. "Good. It's far too soon for you to be dating. You and Darcy just ended a few months ago."

"Mom, it's been like four months," Stevie said. "He should already be out there looking for the future Mrs. Sam Evans, not crying over Darcy."

Sam frowned. "I'm not crying over Darcy. I'm just not ready to date."

"And that's a good thing," Mary smiled, patting his arm.

"But if he were ready, that would also be a good thing," Stevie spoke slowly.

"But he's not," Mary said. "Besides, It'll give Darcy time to work things out with herself. So when she comes back, you wont have someone standing in the way of that."

Stevie and Sam both looked to their mother, matching perplexed expressions on their faces.

Did his mother really think Darcy was going to come back? After everything he'd told her? Sam almost felt bad because she was taking the break up as hard as he was, if not harder.

"Mom, Darce isn't coming back," Sam said, the severity of his statement hitting him harder than he'd expected.

Mary smiled sadly and reached over, patting his hand once more. "She loved you. And you loved her. She made you happy and when something is that good, it doesn't end."

"It wasn't good," he replied. "I was always putting my best into us and she was barely even trying half the time."

"Someone always loves someone else more honey. It just happens sometimes."

Sam shook his head. "No. I don't wanna love someone more than they love me. I want to love them just as much."

There was a long pause as Mary stared at Sam. He stood by his words. He never again wanted to experience having half of someone, or even making it easy for them by loving them enough for the both of them. He wanted equality.

"If that's how you feel," Mary said.

Sam nodded. "It is... And I'm not holding out hope on Darcy and me because Darcy isn't coming back."

More words that hit him harder than he'd expected them to. He still loved her, at least he thought he did. But he wasn't holding his breath on her coming back so he had no choice but to move on.

Mary flinched a bit at his words and stared down at his plate, silence yet again filling the dining room.

"Well then," Stevie said slowly as neither of them spoke. "Who wants dessert?"

* * *

**A/N: Heeeyyy! So, what did we think about this chapter? A lot happened and that arrow "almost kiss" thing. Sooo much fun to write. I teased you guys a bit and I'm not even sorry. If only Jared hadnt showed up, would they have kissed? Who knows? And Mama Evans... mmm she is holding out hope for Darcy. I dont want any of you to look at her as if she's going to cause trouble for samcedes or that she doesnt care that Darcy cheated on Sam because that's not the case. Think of it from her point of view, your son brings home a girl and for five years you've fallen in love with her and opened up your home to her and she's become your family and poof, just like that she's gone because she chose to cheat. Mary just believes that the time apart will be good for them and Darcy will come back all roses and sunshine like "I regret my ways!" And Stevie is just the voice of reason. Sam should be ashamed that his brother is the voice of reason haha. I hope you guys liked this chapter. I had to edit it a bit from the original version. Now let me tell you. Next chapter... whew child! It gets good. SOOOO good. Like... I so badly wanna just post it now but I'm all about the suspense and all that. Gotta wait. :) **

**btw, I'm gonna put quotes from now on for a few of the chapters. They're cute and the writers already know I dont own the show or the characters. **

**Next Time on Accidentally In Love...**

"So, plans for July Fourth?"

"You mean besides basking in the fact that everyone in New York leaves? None really... I mean I got asked out on a date...

**_ANNDD_**

"We're gonna get drunk and dance on the bar."

"I cant dance."

"I know."

**Alright, question of the chapter. What do YOU think is gonna happen next chapter? Let me know. It's already written but I love theories. **

**Dont forget to review :) Until next time (which let's be real, will be like in a few hours or something) **


	15. The One Where The Lines Get Blurred

_**"**__**There's no sex in Middle Earth.**__**" -**__** Ian McKellen**_

**July**

They were curled up on the couch on Saturday morning, watching the reruns of cartoons they'd probably seen hundreds of times by now, the kernels of the cereal growing soggier and soggier by the second.

"So, plans for July Fourth?" Sam asked, glancing at Mercedes as she pushed her Cap'n crunch around.

"You mean besides basking in the fact that everyone in New York leaves? None really... I mean I got asked out on a date..."

Sam rose an eyebrow mid chew. "A date?"

"Yeah. I met this guy at Duane Reade the other day. He was kinda cute, asked me out and I said I'd think about it," she said nonchalantly, watching Elmer Fudd chase after Bugs Bunny.

"Hmm," he hummed, looking down at his bowl of cereal.

"What?"

He shrugged, twisting his spoon around the round purple kernel of cereal. "Nothing. I'm just surprised I'm just now hearing about him."

"Am I supposed to tell you everything?" she quipped.

"Yeah," he nodded. "Or else I wont be sharing my milk with you anymore."

She smirked and kept watching Loony Tunes.

"So... You like him?" He meant for his tone to be playful but it came off as jealous and slightly possessive. He couldn't be upset with her or even the guy that asked her out. He wasn't allowed to be. They were just friends, his feelings aside. And she was free to go out with whoever she wanted to.

"That would be the reason why I'm considering the date, Sam."

"Hmm."

"Stop doing that."

"Doing what?"

"That," she said, poking his arm. "The hmm thing. Just say what you're thinking."

"Nothing just... Who has a first date on Independence Day?" he shrugged, looking back at the television.

"He invited me to his sister's house in Maplewood."

"Wait, as in Jersey?" he asked in a disgusted tone.

"Yeah," she nodded. "What's wrong with Jersey?"

"What_ isn't_ wrong with Jersey," he muttered. "It isn't New York."

"Yeah, just like 49 other states arent New York."

"Hmm- Ow!" He rubbed at his arm she just hit.

"I warned you," she smirked. "Besides, it's my birthday and my friends are taking me out. So the date might not even happen."

"It's your birthday?"

"Yeah, didn't I tell you?"

"You told me your birthday was on a major holiday that involved the color red."

"Yup," she nodded, spooning cereal into her mouth.

"I thought it was Christmas."

"Nope."

Sam placed his bowl down on the table and ran his hands through his still messy hair. "So your friends are taking you out?"

"Santana is, yeah. It's supposed to be a surprise though," she winked. "Wanna join us?"

"Really?" Sam raised his head. "You want me there?"

"Yes, really. You're my best friend. I invited Rachel but her and Lucas flew to Ohio to tell his parents about the engagement. As soon as I find out where they're taking me, I'll text you."

"Are you sure you want me there?" he asked, yet again.

"Yes," she groaned loudly. "We're gonna get drunk and dance on the bar." She winked and started to do a small dance, leaning over to poke Sam's arms several times. He chuckled, moving slightly with each poke.

"I can't dance."

She brought her bowl to her lips, ready to drink the rest of the slightly pink milk in her bowl and chuckled.

"Trust me, I know."

* * *

Sam wasn't a normal 26 year old. Most people his age, enjoyed going out and most people loved the fast pace of dance clubs. Sam, on the other hand, hated it. He hated the loud music, the flashing lights, the humidity of the jam packed building.

He was just at the front end of the club and he was already ready to leave. He squeezed through the crowd, making his way to the bar. If he was going to survive this congested room, he was going to need a drink.

His beer came minutes later, after trying to get the bartender's attention. Turns out he wasn't wearing a short enough skirt for the burly man to notice him. It wasn't until he waved a crisp twenty in his face that he got his drink.

He brought his freshly opened beer to his lips, looking around the club. He nearly choked on the sip that'd just passed his lips as he noticed Mercedes walking towards him. She was dressed in a body hugging lacy blue dress, and five inch nude heels to match while her usually curly hair was pin straight, her long bangs veiling one of her eyes and a large plastic tiara, gracing her head. Sam had to gulp in order to keep his throat from sticking. He'd always been attracted to her, he'd admired her beauty in the elevator when they'd first met, tears and all. But now, it was like he was a hormone raging teenager again and drooled at the first sight of an attractive woman.

"Hey, thanks for coming!" she shouted over the music, the tiara nearly falling off. "Whoops! This place is so packed!"

"What?" he shouted, not hearing her correctly.

"I said the place is so packed!" she said again, dancing a bit to the music. "How long have you been waiting?"

"Not long," he said back.

"Oh! Well come on. We're all over there." She wrapped her arm around his and led him over to a booth.

"Guys, this is Sam. Santana, you already know him. But Kat and Blaine, this is the guy I was telling you about."

"Which one, the one at Duane Reade or the one who got dumped a week before his wedding?" Kat questioned.

Mercedes mouthed a quick sorry to Sam before turning back to her friends. "He's my neighbor, remember?"

Blaine hummed, nodding his head. "So the break up guy. Nice to meet you," he said, leaning over to shake Sam's hand. "We've heard a lot about you."

Sam raised an eyebrow, the cold beer, numbing his hand. "Really?"

"I only talk about you occasionally," Mercedes spoke with a small roll of her eyes.

"Occasionally meaning every day, twice a day," Santana muttered against her straw. "God, I hear your name more than anything else."

"Right," Kat joined in. "It's either 'Sam said the funniest thing' or 'Sam did this' or 'Sam did that' ugh! Gag me."

Mercedes laughed nervously and shook her head. "They're drunk, ignore them."

"It's okay," Sam smiled, stuffing his hands into his pockets. He felt his finger graze against her gift and perked up, as if it reminded him. "Oh! Before I forget. Your birthday gift."

She clapped, letting go of his arm. "Oh, what is it?" she asked enthusiastically.

He pulled out the card from his pocket and handed it to her. "Here. Open it." He watched her face as she enthusiastically tore open the card, shreds of the envelope falling to the ground.

"I wonder what it is," she sang, her smile falling as she finally opened the card. "Oh my god."

Sam twitched a little at her soft tone. "Is that a good 'oh my god' or a bad 'oh my god'," he asked.

"Good," she said, finally looking up at him. Tears welled in her eyes and she fanned them away with her free hand. "It's great."

"Well what is it?" Santana asked, leaning over to see. Kat and Blaine followed suit, leaning over the booth table to get a good look at the gift.

Mercedes was still speechless and Sam took that as a good sign. He'd practically sold his soul to the entertainment reporter at the Gazette to get the tickets but it was worth it, just to see the starry eyed look on his best friend's face.

"You don't have to take me with you if you dont want to," he shrugged.

She scoffed, playfully hitting his arm. "Are you kidding me, of course I'm taking you! You got me tickets to SNL, who else am I gonna take? Thank you. Really I'm so grateful." She pulled him into a hug, wrapping her arms around his neck. "You're an amazing friend."

Sam broke the embrace, urging himself to ignore the fluttering in his chest. "You're welcome. You deserve to be there before you perform on that stage, right?"

"Right," she smiled, closing the card.

"I think I'm gonna vomit," Santana rolled her eyes, getting up from the table. "Okay, come on Blaine."

"Come on what?" he sounded from his spot in the center of the booth.

"Come on as in let's go dance," Santana said, reaching down and pulling him up.

Kat slid out next, taking her drink with her. "Yeah, I need to refill this thing. Do they not know how to make a Bourbon Fizz correctly?" she grumbled.

Mercedes placed her card in her bag and flipped her bangs out of her eyes. "She's the bartender at Diabla's Lounge. She's all about drinks," she laughed.

"Oh," Sam nodded. "I didn't recognize her."

"It's the hair. She used to have brown hair," she explained. "Wanna dance?"

"I can't dance, remember," Sam smirked.

"I know," she said, taking his hand and leading him out to the dance floor. "But do the birthday girl a favor."

Sam groaned dramatically as she led him into the crowd of sweaty, drunk people. He was gonna do her a favor alright. The favor of not dying of exhaustion and lack of oxygen on the jam-packed dance floor.

They dance off and on for what felt like hours, taking the occasional shot when the waitress came around. It wasn't until Sam's head was swimming while he was trying to hail a cab did he realize he was horribly drunk. He was going to have a hang over in the morning and his years without one, was going to be broken. But he couldn't find it in him to be upset because he'd had so much fun, laughing and joking and yes, dancing with all of them. Santana and Kat were a bit bitter to the taste but he got used to them, especially when he had Blaine there to buffer. For a moment, Sam was jealous of him but only because of how close he and Mercedes were. They touched often, kissed each other's cheeks, even danced provocatively with one another. It wasn't until Mercedes told Sam in no uncertain terms that Blaine was 'oh so gay' that he felt the slight sting of jealousy melt away. Was this how it was going to be for him? Every time he saw any guy even come remotely close to Mercedes, he was going to get jealous and territorial?

He didn't have time to ponder the question, because Mercedes was clutching his arm as they stumbled off the elevator.

"Thank you," she said slowly as he caught her from falling. He could barely keep himself up, how he managed to keep her up, he'd never know. Sam wrapped an arm around her and led her to her apartment door, holding out a shaky hand for her keys. She slapped the palm of her hand against his, thinking he wanted a high-five instead.

"No, keys," he licked his lips.

"Oh!" she giggled, reaching into her clutch and rummaging for the keys. "Uh-oh. Guess who doesn't have her keys."

Sam covered his mouth to keep from laughing and turned them around, leading them to his apartment. "It's okay, you can crash at my place."

"Wooh!" she drunkenly cheered, leaning against the wall so that he could unlock the door. They stumbled into his apartment, nearly crashing into one of the lamps. Sam kicked the door shut and lazily locked it.

"Why is it that when ever I'm with you I always manage to get drunk?" she slurred with a giggle.

"I'm intoxicating," he quipped, causing her to laugh harder.

"Oh that was a good one." She groaned, kicking her heels off. "God, these are works of a woman hating devil."

"Why do you wear them?"

"They make my butt look good," she shrugged, attempting to lean against the kitchen wall but slipped on the floor instead.

Sam looked up, hearing the soft thud and the low rumbles of a giggle coming from his best friend. He leaned over her, watching as she laughed to herself.

"Well that's embarrassing," she snorted.

He cocked a smile as she finally stopped laughing. "You're drunk."

"Righty O!" she snorted. "You are too."

"I am," he nodded, extending a hand to help her up. She took it, and stood, pushing her hair out of her face and standing on the tips of her toes. Their eyes met and they stared at each other for a long time, neither one making a move to break the other's gaze. Mercedes sighed shakily, her lace covered chest rising with each breath.

Sam glanced down at her heaving chest, feeling his own fall in sync with hers before he placed a hand beside her head and against the wall. Mercedes eyed his hand on the wall for a second and looked back up to him, blinking a few times. Her bangs had fallen into her eyes, and he reached out, pushing them away. His finger tips stung at the contact of warm flesh but he couldn't find it in him to pull away.

"Sam," she whispered, feeling his thumb trail down her cheek and finally over her bottom lip.

"Yeah?" he gulped, staring at her lips. He'd never wanted to kiss her more than he did right now. Not when the thoughts would occasionally pop into his mind, not even when they were at IKEA. He wanted his questions of what her lips tasted like, answered.

She grazed her teeth over his thumb, inhaling sharply when he moved closer to her.

"You're drunk," she pointed out, her own hand trailed across his shirt covered chest,

"You said that already," he breathed.

"Well then, I'm drunk."

"I know."

"We shouldn't..."

Sam continued to nod his head. "I know."

She was being logical. Even through the haze of being drunk, she was thinking, something Sam had thrown out the window. All he could think about was that he wanted to kiss her. Kiss her like she'd never been kissed before until her pedicured toes curled and she couldn't breathe anymore. He wanted to kiss her until she melted into the palm of his hand, until there was nothing else left of them but two, perfectly molded people.

"Sam," she started again.

"Cedes, shut up."

He silenced her with a kiss, pulling her close to him, his hand on the back of her head. She gasped at first, shocked that he'd actually kiss her before returning it. It wasn't a soft kiss, or a gentle kiss, it was a needy kiss. One that was full of emotions that Sam had tried for so long to fight. Thoughts of her being his best friend, and the line that he didn't want to cross flew out the window, and he kissed her harder, longer than before. Their tongues grazed one another's and she tasted like the fruity drinks she'd spent all night drinking. She lazily drapped her hands over his shoulders and brought him closer, until she was flush against him. Her fingers tangled in his hair, something Sam decided right then and there, would be his new favorite thing.

Mercedes stood on her toes to meet him, arching into him. Sam slipped his hand from the wall and wrapped it around her waist. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears. Or was it her heartbeat? It didn't matter to him whose heart it was, either way it was pounding ridiculously loud, causing his ears to throb.

He kissed the corner of her mouth and then her chin, making her moan out his name.

Another favorite thing he found.

She gasped, feeling his lips on her neck and gripped the sides of his shirt to pull him closer. It wasn't until Sam had to lift his head did he realize that it was coming off and Mercedes' hands were on his jeans and zipper. He watched her through glossy eyes as she yanked the belt buckle, grunting when it snapped open half a second later. She did a quick shimmy, kicking off her panties and flinging them to the side. Their eyes met for a moment before they shared another scorching kiss. His face was red, his chest was red, his ears were red all because she made him feel like he was on fire, just from her lips. Sam trailed his hands to the back of her neck and brought the exposed flesh to his lips, dipping his head to taste the skin over her collarbone.

"Lift me," she whispered and he nodded, quickly obliging. She used her feet and pushed his jeans and boxers down, just enough, while her fingers continued to rake through his hair.

Sam heard her whimper as his teeth dragged across her shoulder, and it surprised him. He was never one to bite or be rough. He was always tender and gentle, whispering sweet nothings in his lover's ears. But he wasn't doing that now. It wasn't that he didn't want to, he just wasn't in the right mind to. He wasn't in the right mind to do much of anything, except burst and have her burst with him.

In the blink of an eye, he was in her, him groaning and her half crying, half moaning. Five months he'd gone without, maybe even longer if he included the time where Darcy had shut him down before the wedding.

It felt good. Better than good. Amazing. Phenomenal. Life changing. Awe inspiring. Tear jerking.

If he cried, he'd die of embarrassment but damn it, it was that good. _She_ was that good. Sam should have known. She was good at everything else. Singing, talking, being a friend, just being who she was in general, she was good. Of course she'd be good at this. It was a given.

They breathed together, passing the air between their lips before kissing once more. She moaned against his lips as he moved, the sounds picking up as their pace did.

"Shit," he groaned, dropping his lips from hers and placing his forehead against her shoulder. He grunted with each stroke and dug his fingers into her hips, wanting to tug away the fabric still covering her body. Her head fell back against the wall, her lips parted and her eyes clenched shut, a breathy _'oh god'_ or a _'yes'_ escaping her lips. She hissed through her teeth and brought her forehead to rest back against his, her hand smoothing the hair at the nape of his neck as their eyes met for a second before Mercedes was gasping again, her lips falling to his neck.

Sam went faster, his strokes longer and harder, their voices and moans filling the apartment.

He felt the familiar tingle start in the bottom of his spine and bit his lip as she tightened around him.

_Too soon_, he thought. He needed more time. More stamina. He was _not_ a fifteen year old boy. He could last longer. He had to.

But she was so good, so perfect, so damn tight that he was going to lose it if they kept moving like they were moving.

It registered in the back of Sam's mind for a moment that this was his best friend he was having wild sex with against his kitchen wall but then she was shaking in his arms and tugging at his hair, and he completely forgot the severity of the situation.

"Oh god," she breathed, holding onto him for dear life.

Her hand slammed against the refrigerator door, squeaking against the metal as her sweaty palm slid down it. She reached back up to the top, clutching onto it.

"Dont stop," she begged. "_Please_ don't stop."

He wasn't going to. If it killed him, he wasn't going to stop. He growled, concentrating on hitting that spot that he knew would send them both over the edge. He came seconds after she did, his hand slapping against the wall.

"Fuck," he breathed, his knees going weak.

Mercedes' squeals died down until she was moaning gently, her warm breath in his ear sending shivers down his spine.

Sam felt his body quake and slid his hand down her hips.

"Going down," he warned just before they collapsed onto the kitchen floor, each of them sticky and sweaty, Sam's hair glued to his forehead and sweat gracing his hairline.

They were still out of breath, still in their own ecstasy filled world to acknowledge the other or to even talk about what had just happened. And right now the silence was good for Sam. In fact, the silence was perfect.

* * *

**A/N: AHHHHH! I'm fan girling even though I wrote it because we FINALLLY get a hook up! Now let me warn you guys, smut is not my forte. I honest to god, think I'm AWFUL at smut. I'm awkward, it takes me DAYS to write this but remember back around chapter 8 or 9 when I said I was changing the rating, this was why I was changing the rating. Because as a spur of the moment, I wrote some smut. Some smut I found passable and I was just like yeaaahhh Samcedes are gonna hook up. And here it is *dougies* I'm so happy it happened and I hope you guys are happy it happened too. But first, let's start from the beginning. Cedes is the one with the date, Sam's getting all jealous (*muffled noise in the background* TELL HER HOW YOU FEELL) We got to meet some of Cedes other friends. Santana we know, Blaine we know from the show but in my fic he's older and a bit more sophisticated. You'll see. And Kat is a OC. FC being Kat Graham because god she's gorgeous. Kat's also the bartender at the club so you can expect Stevie to find out about her. And the hook up. Oh my gosh the hook up. I'm squealing as if it happened in a fic I DIDNT write haha. But it did and I'm sooo happy. lol I hope you guys are too. **

**Next Time On Accidentally In Love...**

"How'd you get me into bed?"

"I didnt. I-"

"I did."

**(only giving you one because if I give you anything else, I'm spoiling EVERYTHING) **

**Alright, quueeesssttioon. How do you think Samcedes handle the hook up? Will they remember? Freak out? Decide to date? What? Let me know and review and tell me what you thought of EVERYTHING! **


	16. The One On The Morning After

A loud crash in the kitchen was the first thing Sam heard in the morning.

"Motherfuck!" he groaned, clutching his head as he writhed around in the bed in pain, the sound vibrating from one ear to the other, bouncing off each ear drum. It was like his eyes were going to jiggle out of the sockets and his teeth were being painfully ripped out of his mouth by a phantom hand. He let out a shaky breath while the pain subsided and smacked his lips together a few times, cringing at the taste on his tongue. That alone made his stomach churn in disgust, as if some animal crawled into his mouth and died.

Death would be easier than the pain he was experiencing and the bile burning in his throat. He sat up but instantly regretted it, the bright light of a new day reaching his sensitive eyes.

"No... Fuck no," he cried under his pillow. He'd never cursed so much in his life but the pain warranted it. He dropped a few more four letter words, and even added a couple of '_son of a bitch_'-es before swallowing to lubricate his dry throat. "Kill me."

This was how it felt for someone's head to explode, he was sure of it. At any moment, the steam would burst from his ears, and someone would find him dead and headless, with a horrible case of morning wood.

Another crash came from his kitchen, this time followed by a laugh. Sam reluctantly pulled the pillow from atop his head and looked toward the door of his room. As if he'd just realized where he was, he looked down at the ruffled sheets around him and frowned.

How did he get here? He didn't remember walking into his room last night, much less falling asleep in his bed. In fact the last thing he remembered was...

His thoughts trailed off as he rummaged through his mind over every memory he'd had.

"Oh no," he breathed, covering his mouth.

The laughing and drinking and dancing and drinking and joking and drinking and then sex.

The. Sex.

The sex he'd had with his best friend. The same best friend he had feelings for. The best friend he wasn't _allowed_ to have feelings for. And he'd had sex with her. Really, _really_ good sex.

Really, really good _unprotected_ sex.

Sam shook with panick and stood too quickly, his stomach flipping with nausea as he ran to the bathroom. He quickly flipped the toilet seat lid and dry heaved over the clean seat, tears pooling in his eyes with each involuntarily hack. He rested his elbows against the porcelain and sighed heavily, running his hands through his hair.

He was never going to drink that much again. In fact, he was never going to drink ever again, period. He was cutting off alcohol. Never again. Smoking would be his only vice.

He stood up, slowly closing the toilet lid to avoid nose and chanced a glance in the mirror. His hair was messy, as if he'd been in a fight and for a moment, Sam thought that's exactly what had happened. He'd drunkenly walked down to the iffy side of town and he'd been knocked out with a baseball bat.

Sam reached down, cringing when the sound of the running water stung his ears. The water cooled down his warm cheeks as he continued to splash himself in the dark of his bathroom. He wouldn't risk turning on the lights, even if he was blindly washing up. His hands dipped under the faucet once more, bringing his cold hands to rest on his chest. He smacked his lips once more, mindlessly and groaned before reaching for his toothbrush. Even the sound of the bristles scrubbing against his teeth made his head pound faster and louder. He dipped his head, and scrubbed harder before angrily spitting out the foam from his mouth.

Sam stared at the faucet as if it was his mortal enemy and quickly turned it on to wash his mouth out. The sound was worse the second time around.

He shuffled out of his room, wincing when he heard soft humming from his kitchen. Mercedes was dancing around, a spatula in her hand and dressed in his clothes; a pair of sweatpants that were too long for her and a t-shirt that nearly reached her knees.

Sam cleared his throat, trying not to be thrown off by the sight of her in his clothes. "Hey."

She spun around, a toothpick dangling from her lips. "Hey," she smiled, pulling the toothpick out of her mouth. "You look awful."

Even through his pain of a hangover, she could still make him smile, even if it was an insult. "Thanks. I feel like death. You?"

"Same," she nodded, turning back to the stove to flip the pancake. "I made some coffee if you want."

"Thanks," he said, walking over to the island in the center of his kitchen. "How'd you get me into bed anyways?"

She flipped the pancake onto the plate and shook her head. "I didn't. I-"

"I did," Mike said, joining the duo in the kitchen. "I came over to talk to you about something but Cedes opened the door. She told me you were pretty out of it from her birthday last night."

"Yeah," she nodded. "I walked in and you were passed out on the kitchen floor. Looks like you had a little too much to drink."

Sam looked directly at her as she smirked and went right back to humming her tune.

"I guess I did," he said tightly. "When did you find me?"

She hummed and looked to the ceiling, as if she truly had to think about it. "Ummm...Right before Mike came over," she answered. "Pancakes?"

She slid him a plate of perfectly stacked flapjacks and brought the syrup along with her.

"Thank you," Sam nodded appreciatively, wincing when the fork clinked against his plate.

"Who would have thunk it? She cooks pancakes too!" Puck said, waltzing into the kitchen, a plate in his hand.

"Puck?" Sam frowned. How many people were in his living room? He looked around the corner and sighed, seeing no one else. Thank god, he thought. The noise of his three friend's voices were already making him feel like he needed to jump out of the window.

"What are you doing here?"

"I got in here like 10 minutes after Mike did. I'm guessing you forgot about us watching the game here. By the way, you're kinda heavy Sammy." He went to take a bite but dropped his fork when he threw his hand into the air. "What the hell is that?!"

"What?" Sam shrugged at Puck's dramatic tone.

"That!" Puck pointed just between the fridge and the counter.

Mike and Sam shared a look, leaning down to see what exactly their friend was talking about. Puck frowned and went to pick up the item in question, smirking when he pinched a lacy pair of red panties between his fingers.

"Whoa-ho-ho! Someone had a party last night."

Mike snapped his head to Sam as his face burned with embarrassment. As if death wasn't looking nicer and nicer, this happened. Sam gulped and started to mumble out an incoherent explanation. What did he say, that those underwear belonged to his best friend who he accidentally had drunk sex with?

His eyes roamed over to Mercedes as she tucked his lips in and snorted into her glass of orange juice. She actually thought it was funny? Sam glared at her as she fought off a fit of laughter and continued to gulp her juice. She met his eyes and shrugged at his disapproving look before turning back to her pancakes.

"You brought a girl here last night?" Mike asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Obviously he did!" Puck interrupted. "Wanna explain? I bet she was hot, no one wears red lace unless they want someone to see them. Or even better, unless they want someone to take it off."

"It's not like that," Sam said, snatching the piece of lingerie away. His fingertips burned, as if the garment was offending him. But he couldn't exactly hand them back to the owner without his two friends finding out about their romp against the wall. His cheeks flushed as the memory came to mind. That wall would forever be tainted in his memory and now, every time he walked past it, he'd feel a burn in his chest.

"Tell us what it was like then," Puck asked, leaning against the countertop and resting his head in his hands, an amused look on his face.

"I...it..." Sam couldn't think up a lie fast enough. At least not a good enough one that would get Puck to leave him alone.

"I'm sure it was that one girl from the club last night, right?" Mercedes asked with a straight face. "You know, the one with the nice ass."

"Hold up- She had a nice ass?!" Puck gasped, practically biting on his nails in excitement. "Tell me more, tell me more, did she have a nice rack?"

Mike glared at Puck as he sang and shook his head. "As a _Grease_ fan, I'm offended."

Puck waved him off and kept his eyes on Sam. "Seriously, tell us!"

Sam was never good with peer pressure. He was never one to give in but instead of giving a definite yes or no, he broke down and right now, he was breaking down. He stared at his friends, his mouth hanging open as he fought for words. "I... You know, I don't even remember. I was so drunk."

Puck frowned and flopped his arms dramatically. "Booo! I wanted some awesome one night stand story. You know I live vicariously through you."

"Arent you married?" Mercedes asked, her fork in her hand.

"It's not like I'm the one doing the one night stands," Puck shrugged.

Mike kept silent, his head slowly nodding as he glanced between Sam, the lingerie in his hand and a smirking Mercedes.

"So... You brought a girl home last night?" he stated more than asked.

"I mean... Yeah... But who knows, right?" Sam babbled.

"Was it a dude?" Puck injected.

"No!"

"Then you know," he said, picking up the last bit of his pancakes between his fingers and chewing on it.

Sam couldn't do the 20 questions anymore. Not while he was sure that he was beet red from utter embarrassment and that Mercedes was going to break out into a fit of giggles at any second.

"Mike, you had something to talk to me about?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Oh, yeah, I did. Um. Cedes can you give us a minute?"

She nodded, pushing herself off of the counter. "Sure. I'll be in Sam's room," she smiled.

"Why don't you go to your apartment?" Puck questioned, his mouth full of pancakes.

"One, my apartment is being fumigated and two, you wouldn't be able to see my beautiful face anymore. And that would be a shame," she smiled, walking out of the kitchen.

"Did I ever tell you I like you?" Puck shouted to her.

"I like you too Pucky Poo," she laughed, going into Sam's room and shutting the door.

"Pucky Poo? That's what gets you, huh?" Sam laughed at the cheesy look on his friend's face.

"Shut up, my mom used to call me that," Puck said, turning around to face Mike. "Okay. We're all ears."

Mike shifted his weight from one foot to the other and stared down at his shoes. "Uh... As you guys know, I've been busy," he started. "And... Um. The Gazette isn't giving me the pieces I deserve. I write hard for that paper and there's nothing to show for it, ya know. There comes a time where-"

"Oh spit it out already!" Puck groaned.

"I got a job offer to work at the New York Times," Mike rushed out.

Silence fell over the room as all three friends thought about the words Mike had fumbled out seconds earlier.

"Why do I feel like you two already knew," Mike finally spoke.

Sam didn't think he was being that obvious but he was avoiding Mike's eyes, staring at a spot on his wall, as if it were the most interesting spot he'd ever laid eyes on.

"Because we did!" Puck huffed. "Rachel told Sam who told me."

Mike sighed, clasping his hands against his chest. "Look, I wanted to tell you guys about the job offer-"

"But you didn't!" Puck snapped, cutting him off. "We're supposed to be your friends Mike."

"I know," he said. "But I couldn't tell you guys because I barely believed it. This is my dream come true and I just had to think about it for a while. Wrap my head around it."

"We could have helped you," Sam shrugged. .

Puck might have yelled his way through it but Sam at least felt like he could have helped Mike. Even now his friend looked like he was almost drowning and he needed a hand to keep his head above water.

"I know, I know. I should have told you guys. I'm sorry," Mike said, before sighing and resting back against the wall "Quinn's pregnant."

Both men snapped their heads toward him in shock.

"What?" Sam smiled. "She's pregnant?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "I'm freaking out just a little bit. She told me the day I found out about the job. I didn't even know how to handle all that information so I shut down."

"Congrats man. But being a dad is easy," Puck said, clapping him on the back. "I do it."

"You stay as far away from your kids as possible," Mike shook his head.

Puck scoffed. "Not on purpose. The twins are in their messy stage. Like I don't wanna see the masterpiece they made in the bathroom... But I love them. And you are gonna make an awesome dad, trust me."

"Congrats," Sam said, smiling gently.

He couldn't put a word to the emotion he was feeling. It wasn't jealousy because he was sure, positive even, that he was 100% happy for Mike. Happy for his job offer and him starting a family, but it was something else. Like he was missing out on something he could've had. Not necessarily with Darcy but with _someone_. The thought sent a shiver down Sam's spine. For the first time, Sam had thought about a future and he hadn't automatically put Darcy in the partner slot.

"So I should take the job?" Mike asked.

"Wait, you haven't decided yet?" Puck frowned.

"No. It doesn't start until September and I wanted to wait until I told you guys."

Sam placed his hand on Mike's shoulder, his lips rising in a smile. "Take the job. We'll always be here to support you, man."

"Yeah," Puck agreed. "But keep shit like this away from us again and we'll shank your rich ass."

"Puck, do you even know what shanking means?" Mike asked, amused.

Puck shrugged. "Nah, but it sounds bad ass."

* * *

Mike was the first to leave nearly an hour later. It took Sam some pushing to get Puck out next.

"Dude, just let me stay for the rest of the game," his friend groaned.

"No," Sam shook his head. "You do realize you have a wife and two kids at home, right?"

"Yeah but it's Sunday , I deserve the day off."

"Off from what?"

Puck paused, frowning. "From doing dad and husband shit. You know."

"Actually I don't. Bye Puck." Sam gently pushed him out of the door.

"Oh come on Sam just one more-"

"Nope."

Puck spun around, shaking his head. "I bet you're just kicking me out so you and Cedes can go for round two."

Sam froze, his eyes growing wide. "Wh-what?"

Puck smirked, reaching for the door knob. "You're not slick Evans," he squinted, slamming the door before Sam could.

He stared at the closed door, his mouth agape in shock and spun around when he heard his bedroom door creak open.

"Hey... What's wrong?" Mercedes asked, wrapped in his comforter.

"I think Puck knows what happened last night," he said.

"Hmm.. Is that _bad_?"

He wasnt sure how to gauge her reaction and shrugged, turning around. "I don't know yet," he mumbled, finally looking up at her. "Why are you wrapped in my comforter?"

"It's cold," she shrugged, going to sit on the couch. "Can I have my panties back?"

Sam jumped, as if she'd said the words louder and dug the item in question out of his pocket and placed it on the coffee table between them.

"Here ya go."

"Thanks," she nodded.

The sat in silence, both of them tip toeing around the inevitable. Sam didn't want to bring it up. In fact, he didn't want Mercedes to bring it up. Not until he wrapped his head around it. Not until he didn't feel like a scarlet tinge would rise up his neck at just the thought of what happened the night before.

"So..." Mercedes said, biting her lip. "Thanks again for those tickets."

"Yeah," Sam nodded, avoiding her eyes. "And uh, thanks for inviting me. I had fun."

"Sure, sure. You're welcome. I had fun too."

This was awkward. Beyond awkward. Sam wasn't sure if he wanted her to leave or stay. In fact, he didn't even know if _he _wanted to leave or stay. He just knew that this conversation was suffocatingly awkward and they were barely talking. At least not about what they should have been talking about.

Mercedes sat up, adjusting the comforter over her shoulders. "Sam, last night-"

"Was a mistake," he blurted out, happy that she'd started the conversation.

She slunk back into her seat slowly and nodded wordlessly. "Oh, right... A mistake."

"A drunken one... I honestly don't know what came over me," he said.

"Right," she repeated. "Me neither."

"And... I would never ever want to ruin what we have here. You're my best friend."

"Of course. You're mine too," she said, smiling a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

Sam frowned at her monotone reaction but continued. "I don't wanna lose you Cedes."

"You couldn't," she sighed, standing up and opening her arms to pull him into a hug. "You're stuck with me."

Sam wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer, sighing into the hug. Had she taken a shower before he'd woken up? She smelled like vanilla still, but it was subtler than before. It must have been her natural scent that pulled him in, that made him want to bury his face into the crook of her neck and inhale. Sam pulled away before he acted on his feelings and smiled down at her, ignoring the urge to pull her into a kiss like he had the night before.

He couldn't.

He wasn't drunk anymore and with the intoxication went his boldness.

"I better go across the hall. I'm hoping the super put my spare key under my mat."

"Okay," Sam nodded, stepping to the side to let her walk to the door. "Wait!"

"Yeah?" she spun around expectantly.

How did he approach this subject without sounding creepy? Sam rubbed the back of his neck nervously and breathed out through his puckered lips. "We didn't... I mean I forgot about protection... last night."

Mercedes smirked. "Oh. Well there's this new technology called birth control. It comes in several forms. The pill, diaphragm, nuva rings, and my personal favorite, the shot in the arm."

"Ah... so..."

"So... There's not gonna be a mini you or I running around nine months from now."

"Oh. Thank god," he smiled crookedly.

"Please, tone down your disappointment," she said sarcastically. "Besides our baby would look amazing."

"It would?"

"Yeah, don't you know swirly babies are in?" she said before cracking a smile. "I should go. And I'll take my underwear that I'm gonna have to burn now because Puck touched them, with me." She snatched the panties from the coffee table and walked towards the door.

"Happy Birthday," Sam called.

"Thanks. And thank you for the presents."

"I only got you one present," he corrected.

She flashed her hair over her shoulder and shook her head. "Trust me. You gave me two presents."

He picked up on her double meaning and swallowed thickly as she left his apartment, taking his comforter with her.

* * *

**A/N: Hey all! This is the morning after chapter and for those of you who guessed it was Stevie, sorry. I had to give him a break. He'll be back though. But it was Mike and SURPRISE Puck haha. I wanted Mike to come in and talk about why he'd been avoiding everyone. And how about them red panties! I see you Cedes girl. And we ALL know she was not about to say it was a mistake. Sam, get your life. (like he's not my character pfft) And for those guessing an accidental Samcedes pregnancy. Nope. I see it done sooo much in this ship's fics and I TRY to be as original as possible. Now let me tell you, this chapter wasnt going to end like this. Something else was gonna happen but I took that out because I wanted to give you guys a bit more fluff before I smack you with angst. Literally the next few chapters are gonna be a sort of rollercoaster and I'm assuming, you're gonna hate me around chapter 18 and 19 and then love me again around chapter 20. Maybe. I might change it because I'm a radiant, fickle creature. :) But next chapter you get cute shit and I was like aww when I wrote it. But then I opened the document for Ch. 20 and I was side eyeing myself haha. **

**Now, let me tell you why it took me so long to update. Literally, canon samcedes Messed. Me. Up. No, I mean MESSED ME UP guys. Like I was shock still and I couldnt even look at this fic without cringing. I got on my tumblr for the first time in like 3 months and surprise surprise, Samcedes is on again on the show or they're gonna be. And let me tell you, I was staring at my screen bug eyed because I'm not about that life. Not after Season 4. I dont wannnttt ittt. But I'm not gonna lie, I was scratching at the screen because Sam cut his hair looking like Swag Evans and I was feeling it. I was like yeeaahh. The pics made me happy but I'm still not here for canon samcedes though. You wont catch me shipping. You wont catch me watching, I've moved on to better shows. Dont even do it RIB. Cant be redeemed. Doesnt mean I'm giving up on writing Samcedes though because for some odd reason, I'm getting smacked with ideas. Like the other day, when I was trying to update something else, I got an idea for a spicy fic and... I dont wanna give anything away but I have one chapter typed already and all I can say is strippers and politicians and infidelity. That's all. But it's gonna be hot and it's gonna be pretty smutty. (Jesus help me write the smut. Wait... no Jesus. That was an odd request. Ignore it.) Anyways, enough with my rambling and nonsense. **

**Next time on **_Accidentally In Love_**...**

"Hey, power's out."

"Anyone ever tell you how observant you are? Wanna come in? I have candles."

"I have my iPad...That's dying."

_**ANNNNDDD**_

"I think my dad would have liked you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

**Make sure you all review guys! No question for this chapter but next chapter *Birdman hand rub* **


	17. The One Where Sam's Gives In

***cough* Listen to Kiss Me- Ed Sheeran during a certain part. *wink* It was on replay while I was writing it. **

**On with the show! **

* * *

**August**

Sam knew it was going to be bad before the storm even hit. The sky was closer to the ground as the bubbling clouds came boiling in and the air was thick while cool winds took over the warm humidity. The winds were the first sign that the weather was going to take an unexpected turn. The heavy, harsh, rain came next followed by thunder and crashing lightning. A concoction to end all summer weather concoction.

He managed to make it into his apartment just before the brunt of the storm hit. The power was going to go out, he was positive. It always went out during the really bad storms and tonight, it was going to be a really bad storm.

The sound of thunder made Sam jump in his bed as he flipped through his tablet later that night, the pictures of the engaged couples he'd taken a week before growing fuzzy. He pulled the charger out of the iPad, just to be safe and scooted up closer to the headboard. It wasn't that he was afraid of thunderstorms, he was a grown man. But the claps of thunder and flashes of lightning put him on edge. It always had. And he swore that he could feel an invisible pain in the back of his head because of the tormenting weather.

Sam lifted his head as the lights flickered above his head. He wouldn't even know the first place to look for his flashlight. Did he even own one besides the app installed on his phone? This lights danced yet again, shutting off seconds after the flashing stopped. Sam sighed, the glow of his iPad the only light in his dark room. He stood, using his tablet to guide him out of his room.

"Oh come on," he complained, stubbing his sock covered foot on the side table in his living room as he shuffled towards the window. He peaked through the blinds and sighed, seeing that it wasn't just his building but the entire block that was out of power. Sam dropped his head, using the dim light to search for his phone. He stumbled forward, tripping over the foot of his chair and hit the ground with a loud thud.

"Ow," he groaned, rolling onto his back. He looked up as his front door opened and a flash of light blinded him.

"Hey," Mercedes said, her flashlight in hand. Sam could tell she was smiling just from the way she greeted him.

"Hey," he grinned. "Power's out."

She chuckled, bringing the light to rest under her chin as if she was going to tell a scary story. "Anyone ever tell you how observant you are? Wanna come over? I have candles."

"I have my iPad," he joked, hearing the device buzz beside him. "That's dying."

"Come on," she said, extending a hand. Sam took it and stood, dusting himself off.

"Thanks," he mumbled, following her out of his apartment and into hers. It was lighted, as if her power were still on, from the candles spaced around her living room.

"Sorry if it's hot," she said, shutting the door and clicking her flashlight off. "I had the air off when the power went out and I'm too afraid to open the windows."

Sam smirked and went to take a seat on her sofa.

"No," she shook her head. "Come on, the bedroom's cooler."

He hesitated, shoving his hands into his jean pockets. Bedroom spelled out problems. Bedroom meant they were going to be close and Sam wasnt sure he could handle close. He was probably going to break or worse. Lose it.

Mercedes turned around in the doorway of her room and laughed at the perplexed look on his face.

"I'm not gonna ravish you Sam."

"I-I know."

"Come on then," she nodded, walking into her room. Sam followed, taking in her room. Just as elegant as her living room was. Creams and purples accented the large room, including the several pillows on her large bed.

"Why do women have so many pillows?" Sam asked with a crooked smile.

"I don't know about other women but I have so many because sleeping alone in a king size bed can get pretty lonely," she shrugged, throwing herself onto her bed and snuggling close to her pillows. "They're all my friends. Especially Antonio."

"Antonio?" he rose an eyebrow.

"My body pillow," she said, sitting up and pulling the pillow in question out. "Dont laugh but I spray Axe on him ever few days and I sleep with him. There's nothing like being held when you're asleep but Antonio is good for now."

Sam nodded, walking closer to the bed. "I don't know if that's sad or clever."

"Maybe both," she smirked, patting the spot next to her. "Sit."

He cautiously sat on the bed and rested opposite of her, his shoulders against the headboard while Mercedes' feet danced beside him.

"I kinda wish I'd charged my phone before the power went out. I was texting that guy from Duane Reade."

Sam stiffened and nodded, trying his hardest not to clench his jaw. "Oh?"

"Yeah. He asked me out. Again. I turned him down, again."

He rose an eyebrow. "You turned him down a first time?"

"Mhm," she hummed.

"Why?"

She cut her eyes to him, her face serious. "Why do you think?"

Sam didn't want to answer. So he let it float in the air, a lump forming in his throat. He knew the exact reason why she'd turned down Duane Reade guy and if he were being honest he was relieved. He shouldnt be. It was unfair for him to be relieved but he was. He didn't even want to think how he'd handle seeing her date someone. He already felt like ripping his hair out when Stevie innocently flirted with her.

"You know what I'd love right now?" she asked.

"What?"

"An ice cream sandwich. And not just a regular one but one of those ice cream sandwiches with Neapolitan in the middle."

Sam smiled fondly. "I used to love those."

"Right," she laughed. "They were the best. And add a little peanut butter to it and it's orgasmic."

He made a disgusted face and cringed. "Ugh, no. Peanut butter and ice cream?"

"Yes," she exclaimed. "It's the perfect combination. Where have you been?"

"Living under a rock apparently."

"Obviously. What about you? What weird food thing can you not live without?"

Sam clasped his hands over his chest and tried to think. "I don't really have one. I'm normal."

Mercedes squinted, playfully hitting him in the shoulder with her foot.

"Ow, okay, okay," he said. "Um, my dad used to eat liver and I used to steal bites but that's it."

"Liver?" she frowned. "Like cow liver?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "Dont make that face since you eat peanut butter and ice cream."

"Fine, no judgment," she smiled, dropping her feet from the headboard. "You've never really talked about your dad before."

"I haven't?"

"Nope. All I know is that he died when you were young."

Sam nodded and slid down the bed, resting his head in hand. "Yeah, I was 14."

"What happened?" she questioned. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"No, it's not that. It's just that I don't talk about him a lot with anyone outside of Stevie and my mom."

"Not even Puck or Mike?"

Sam shook his head.

"Not even Darcy?"

He froze at the mention of his ex-fiancee and cleared his throat. His father wasn't a subject that he and Darcy actively talked about. It wasn't even until their second year of dating that she found out his father had died of a heart attack.

It wasn't that he'd wanted to keep that part of him to himself, he just didn't think it meant anything if he talked about it. What would it accomplish? All that would end up happening is that he'd remember being a teenage boy, staring at the grass as they lowered his father into the ground.

"No, not even her," he finally spoke. He lifted himself up a bit, to where he could look at her better and licked his lips. "I think he was my first best friend. And it's hilarious that anyone would even consider him a friend since he was such a... such a..."

What word could best describe his father? Curmudgeon?

"Stick in the mud?" Mercedes tried to fill in.

"Ass," Sam chuckled. "My dad was an ass. He wasn't the most friendly person. If he didn't like you, he'd tell you. He cursed like a sailor, loved baseball a little too much but he was a great dad and a good man. I remember one time he and I went to a game for my 12th birthday. And this guy kept blocking my view of the field. I'd never heard so many curse words before in my life. On the way home all he kept saying was, _don't tell your mother-damn it-dont tell your mother_."

Mercedes laughed, staring up at him. "Typical Dad phrase."

"Yeah. But he was far from being the typical dad. He was extraordinary in all the right ways."

Sam swallowed the lump forming in his throat. He'd never openly talked about his father this much with anyone before. Even when the elder Evans man came up in conversation with Mary or Stevie, it was in passing and ended quickly before anyone could remember just how much they truly missed him. Twelve years or not, it was always going to hurt like it did that day his mother told him his father was gone.

Mercedes reached over and thumbed away a stray tear that had escaped his red eyes, her own glistening the more he spoke.

"Who's more like him, you or Stevie?" she asked.

"Stevie," he said. "Definitely him. He has Dad's confidence. I missed out on that."

She shook her head and moved her hand away. "There's a difference between confidence and arrogance, you know."

He smiled appreciatively and nodded. "I know. I have a feeling he would have liked you though."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"What about me?" She scooted closer to him, her head near his knees as her feet dangled over the bed.

"Well, he'd love your sense of humor. And that you are not above criminal activity."

"It was one time," she laughed. "I just picked that lock to get my lamp."

"You never did tell me about the lamp. Why was it so important?"

"Stories for another time," she said simply. "But finish telling me all the ways your dad would like me."

Sam chuckled, and looked down at her. "Well, he'd like how calm you are. And how things don't seem to phase you."

"Not true," she shook her head. "Things phase me. I'm actually really sensitive. I just give the illusion that I've got this tough skin but I cry all the time."

"No you don't," Sam scoffed in disbelief.

"I do. I've always been really sensitive. I just try to hide it. But keep going."

"Where did I leave off on?"

"My calmness."

"Right," he nodded. "Well, you're a pretty face for one, and he'd love that. He might have even flirted with you."

"You think I'm pretty?" she said, playfully poking his leg.

"I think you're more than pretty. I think you're beautiful," he said honestly, a small smile on his face. Sam stared at her, his entire body warming as her brown eyes raked over him. It was like he was having an out of body experience as he sat up and crawled towards her, his eyes never leaving hers. Thoughts sped through his mind, warning him not to do exactly what he wanted to do, but he ignored them. He didn't have it in him to pull away. Not right now. Not tonight while the storm was raging outside.

He wanted to give in. To stop fighting it and to just give in. Give in to her and in to him and in to those feelings he'd spent so long pushing away.

At least for now.

Maybe tomorrow he could go back to fighting. But for now, the only energy he had left was to hover over her and watch as she held her breath.

Before either could react, their lips were touching in a gentle kiss. It was different then the night of her birthday, where they were both drunk and hungrily devouring each other. This kiss was gentle, her fingers ghosting over the nape of his neck and his over her hips. Thunder crashed outside, followed by a bright flash of lightening but Sam didn't flinch. He was so pulled in by her that nothing else in that moment mattered. Not the weather, not the fact that she was his best friend and that this could quite literally ruin everything. All that mattered was her lips against his, and her vanilla scent that he just couldn't seem to get enough of.

"What are you doing?" Mercedes asked breathlessly, her eyes still closed.

"I don't know," he mumbled, stroking her cheek. "Do you want me to stop?"

She opened her eyes at his question and slowly shook her head. "No."

* * *

Half of his body was cold when Sam woke up the next morning, the other half warmed by Mercedes curled up next to him. His arm was numb as it wrapped around her but he didn't dare move. Not when she looked so peaceful, breathing gently as her eyes danced back and forth beneath her eyelids. She was dreaming and from the small smile on her lips, it was a good dream. He threaded his fingers through her hair and smiled gently while the other hand delicately ran over her face. If he were being honest with himself, he was okay with waking up like this. He shifted slightly, wincing when she moved with him and pulled her closer, until she was practically on top of him. He was doing everything he said he wouldn't do. That he wouldn't kiss her again, touch her again, breathe her in again but he couldn't help it anymore. He was going to selfishly indulge, even for these few moments before his feet touched the ground.

"Good morning," Mercedes said, her eyes fluttering open. "You're staring."

"I know," he answered. "The lights are back on."

"Those observation skills are still on point the morning after, I see," she quipped.

"Of course," he nodded, gazing down at her.

She squirmed under his gaze and scrunched her nose. "What?"

"Nothing... What time do you have to be at the diner?"

She shrugged. "Soon probably. But I have no idea what time it is, remember?"

"Right," he nodded, freely reaching over and brushing an eyelash off her cheek. What was wrong with him? Why was he just suddenly letting himself touch her?

"I should probably get ready so I don't get fired though," she whispered, slowly pulling away from Sam.

He sighed as her hair dragged across his arm and she crawled off the bed. He was afraid to move even half an inch. If he moved, everything would be real and he'd be torn from the haze he was in. And he wasn't sure he wanted to wake up just yet.

"Sam?"

He looked over to her as she pinned her hair up and lifted his head. "Yeah?"

"Do you maybe wanna meet up after work or something. So we can... _Talk_?"

He reluctantly stood up and straightened out his jeans before nodding with a grin. "Okay."

"Okay," she smiled back at him. "Good. Well I'd better get dressed."

"Right," he jumped, as if he'd just realized he was in her room and he needed to go. "I'll see you later. For the_ talk._"

"Dont make it sound like I'm trying to tell you about the birds and the bees," she giggled.

"Sorry." As if his feet were still stuck, he urged himself towards the bedroom door.

"Wait," she called, bouncing over to him and placing a chaste kiss on his lips. He leaned forward as she pulled away, not nearly ready for the kiss to be over with. She rested her forehead against his and sighed. "So I wasn't dreaming."

Sam shook his head. "No."

"Good," she grinned, her hands on his chest. "See you later."

"See you later," he repeated, stepping back until there was at least a foot between them. He walked backward, never taking his eyes off of her until there was nothing for him to see but her apartment door. He stood, stock still for a few moments, staring at the numbers on her door. A smile crept up on his lips as he walked back to his apartment, a small pip in his step. They'd just spent the night talking and sharing a few kisses and now, he felt like he was ready to sing in the rain, as off key as it would be. But it was okay.

Maybe he wouldn't go back to fighting his feelings today. Maybe today, he'd just give in a little more; just a little more so that this new high didn't stop.

As soon as Sam was inside his apartment, he was searching for his most likely dead phone. He was probably late for work and had at least four messages from Puck and Sebastian but he wasnt going to be in until he found his phone. His search halted when he heard a soft knock at his front door and he lifted his head with a confused frown. If it was Stevie or Mercedes, they would have opened the door already. And Mike and Puck would have called. He walked over to the door and opened it with a gasp, meeting a familiar pair of eyes. He opened his mouth to speak but his words struggled to get out. Why was she here? Why was he just gaping at her like a fish? He could be in shock. Sam decided that's the reason he was frozen in his spot, barely blinking. Barely breathing. He was in utter and complete shock. Maybe if he was lucky, he'd pass out from lack of oxygen and wake up with everyone leaning over him screaming GOTCHA, before they all shared a laugh.

Sam managed to close his mouth as the air dried against his tongue and licked his lips, trying to figure out just what to say in the moment. There was nothing to say, or comment or ask. All he could will himself to do was blink a few more times, and mutter her name.

"Darcy?"

She turned around, a hand placed on her protruding belly and a shaky smile on her thin lips. "Hi Sammy. Can I come in?"

* * *

**A/N: CLIIFFFYYYYYYY Now, for those of you who follow me and all my other stories, you know I love a good cliffhanger. And I normally do it right before I know it's gonna take me a minute to update haha. Which it will. I start my new job on Monday (bout to make that skrilla) so updates might have longer wait times. Not terribly long because I wanna get back to the happy shit since the angst is coming in. And boy is the angst coming in! Now, didnt I tell you guys you were going to hate me around ch. 18 and 19. Yeah, I changed everything up. Darcy was not supposed to come back pregnant but she did. I wanna tell you soooo bad what happens but you'll see next chapter. Gotta leave you wanting more. And awww samcedes during the storm. I cant even. Writing it, I was crumbling with feels lol. The kiss, the cuddling, the morning after, ugh. I hope you guys listened to that Ed Sheeran song during that kissing scene because it inspired that scene. If not, go back and reread it lol And Sam finally gave in. And as soon as that happens, Darcy's ass comes in. *sigh* _Kym whyyyyyyy_, you're probably screaming. I'll tell you why, because it wouldnt be a good story if I just let them be happy and fluffy and kissy face. **

**Now, last chapters reviews had me rolling. Like you guys are violent haha. Literally every single review had some variation of "I wanna smack Sam." haha. I loved it. And for those who talked about Cedes being all calm cool and collected the next day, of course she is, she's flawless lol. I always love writing Cedes in all my fics as cool. Even if she's a basket case, she's always gonna be cool and confident. I'm not about that insecure Mercedes life. I hate reading her written like that too. But that's just me. **

**Next chapter, we find out what Darcy wants and I hope you guys stick with me because it's about to get... um... well you'll see. Cant tell you yet. But I'll tell you what, the story ends at a wedding. :) **

**Next Time On **_Accidentally In Love_**...**

"Arent you going to invite me in?"

**_Annnndd_**

"I'm done waiting."

**Question time: Why do you think Darcy is there? And how do you think Sam will react?**

**(300+ reviews btw. Omg, whet! Thanks guyyysssss!) **


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